LIBRARY  OF  THE  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 

PRINCETON.  N.  J. 

Presented  by 


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THE    LIFE 


JESUS,  THE  CHRIST. 


HENRY    WARD    BEECHER. 


IlUistrittetJ. 


"But  wlicn  the  fulness  of  the  time  was  come,  God  sent  forth  his  Son,  made  of  a  woman,  made 
under  the  law,  to  redeem  them  that  were  under  the  law."  — Gal.  iv.  4,  5. 


NEW   YORK: 
,T.    B.    FORD    AND    COMPANY. 

EDINBURGH  AND  LONDON;   THOM.^S  NELSON  &  SONS. 
1871. 


[-1//  rights  reserved.] 

^ -^ 


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EntcreJ  accordinj;  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1871, 

By  J.  B.  FORD  AND  COMPANY, 

in  tlie  Office  of  the  Librarian  ol'  Congress,  at  Washington. 


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PREFACE 


I  HAVE  undertaken  to  write  a  Life  of  Jesus,  the  Christ,  in 
the  hope  of  inspiiing  a  deeper  interest  in  the  noble  Per- 
sonage of  whom  those  matchless  histories,  the  Gospels  of  Mat- 
thew, Mark,  Luke,  and  John  are  the  chief  authentic  memorials. 
I  have  endeavored  to  present  scenes  that  occurred  two  thousand 
years  ago  as  they  would  appear  to  modern  eyes  if  the  events 
had  taken  place  in  our  day. 

The  Lives  of  Christ  which  have  appeared  of  late  years  have 
naturally  partaken  largely  of  the  dialectic  and  critical  spirit. 
They  have  either  attacked  or  defended.  The  Gospel,  like  a 
city  of  four  gates,  has  been  taken  and  retaken  by  alternate 
parties,  or  held  in  part  by  opposing  hosts,  while  on  every  side 
the  marks  of  siege  and  defence  cover  the  ground.  This  may 
be  unfortunate,  but  it  is  necessary.  As  long  as  great  learning 
and  acute  criticism  are  brought  to  assail  the  text  of  the  Gos- 
pels, their  historic  authenticity,  the  truth  of  their  contents,  and 
the  ethical  nature  of  their  teachings,  so  long  must  great  learn- 
ing and  sound  philosophy  be  brought  to  the  defence  of  those 
precious  documents. 

But  such  controversial  Lives  of  Christ  are  not  the  best  for 
general  reading.  While  they  may  lead  scholars  from  doubt 
to  certainty,  they  are  likely  to  lead  plain  people  from  certainty 
into  doubt,  and  to  leave  them  there.     I  have  therefore  studi- 

t^ ^ ^ 4 


a- -a 

iv  PREFA  CE. 

ously  avoided  a  polemic  spirit,  seeking  to  produce  conviction 
•without  controversy. 

Joubert'  finely  says:  "State  truths  of  sentiment,  and  do  not 
try  to  prove  them.  There  is  danger  in  such  proofs ;  for  in 
arguing  it  is  necessary  to  treat  that  which  is  in  question  as 
something  problematic ;  now  that  which  we  accustom  ourselves 
to  treat  as  problematic  ends  by  appearing  to  us  as  really 
doubtful.  In  things  that  are  visible  and  palpable,  never  prove 
what  is  believed  already  ;  in  things  that  are  certain  and  mys- 
terious, —  mysterious  by  their  greatness  and  by  their  nature,  — 
make  people  believe  them,  and  do  not  prove  them  ;  in  things 
that  are  matters  of  practice  and  duty,  command,  and  do  not 
explain.  'Fear  God'  has  made  many  men  pious;  the  proofs  of 
the  existence  of  God  have  made  many  men  atheists.  From 
the  defiance  springs  the  attack ;  the  advocate  begets  in  his 
hearer  a  wish  to  pick  holes  ;  and  men  are  almost  always  led 
on  from  a  desire  to  contradict  the  doctor  to  the  desire  to 
contradict  the  doctrine.  Make  Truth  lovely,  and  do  not  try 
to  arm  her." 

The  history  of  the  text,  the  authenticity  of  the  several 
narratives,  the  many  philosophical  questions  that  must  arise 
in  such  a  field,  I  have  not  formally  discussed ;  still  less  have 
I  paused  to  dispute  and  answer  the  thousands  of  objections 
which  swarm  around  the  narrative  in  the  books  of  the  scepti- 
cal school  of  criticism.  Such  a  labor,  while  very  important, 
would  constitute  a  work  quite  distinct  from  that  which  I  have 
proposed,  and  would  infuse  into  the  discussion  a  controversial 
element  which  I  have  especially  sought  to  avoid,  as  inconsistent 
with  the  moral  ends  which  I  had  in  view. 

'  As  quoted  by  Matthew  Arnold,  Essays  in  Criticism,  p.  234  (London  ed.),  1865. 


r ^ ^ 

I  PREFACE.  V 

I   have    however  attentively  considered    whiatever   has   been 

I  •  •        •  ' 

I        said,  on  every  side,  in  the  works  of  critical  objectors,  and  have 

endeavored  as  far  as  possible   so  to  state  the  facts  as  to  take 

away  the  grounds  from  which  the  objections  were  aimed. 

Writing  in  full  sympathy  with  the  Gospels  as  autlientic 
historical  documents,  and  with  the  nature  and  teachings  of  the  j 
I  great  Personage  whom  they  describe,  it  is  scarcely  necessary  | 
to  say  that  I  have  not  attem^ited  to  show  the  world  what  i 
Matthew  and  John  oughf  to  have  heard  and  to  have  seen,  but 
did  not ;  nor  what  things  they  did  not  see  or  hear,  but  in  their  | 
simplicity  believed  that  they  did.  In  short,  I  have  not  in-  | 
vented  a  Life  of  Jesus  to  suit  the  critical  philosophy  of  the  j 
nineteenth  century. 

The  Jesus  of  the  foiu'  Evangelists  for  wellnigh  two  thousand 
years  has  exerted  a  powerful  influence  upon  the  heart,  the  un- 
derstanding, and  the  imagination  of  mankind.  It  is  thcd  Jesus, 
and  not  a  modern  substitute,  whom  I  have  sought  to  depict,  in  his 
life,  his  social  relations,  his  disposition,  his  deeds  and  doctrines. 

This  work  has  been  delayed  far  beyond  the  expectation  of 
the  publishers,  without  fault  of  theirs,  but  simply  because,  with 
the  other  duties  incumbent  upon  me,  I  could  not  make  haste 
faster  than  I  have.  Even  after  so  long  a  delay  the  first  Part 
only  is  ready  to  go  forth ;  and  for  the  second  I  am  obliged  to 
solicit  the  patience  of  my  readers.  But  I  aim  to  complete  it 
within  the  year. 

The  order  of  time  in  the  four  Evangelists  has  always  been 
a  perplexity  to  harmonists,  and  it  seems  likely  never  to  be  less. 
But  this  is  more  especially  characteristic  of  details  whose  value 
is  little  affected  by  the  question  of  chronological  oi'der,  than 
of  the  great  facts  of  the  life  of  Jesus. 

^ ^ 


a -a 

vi  PREFACE. 

I  have  followed,  tliovigh  not  ■^'ithoiit  variations,  the  order 
given  by  Ellicott,^  and  especially  Andrews.^  But  a  recent 
"  Gospel  History  Consolidated,"  published  in  London  by  Bag- 
ster,^  so  generally  accords  with  these  that  I  have  made  it  the 
working  basis ;  and,  instead  of  cumbering  the  margin  with 
references  to  the  passages  imder  treatment,  have  preferred  to 
reproduce  at  the  end  of  this  volume  a  corresponding  portion 
of  the  text  of  the  "  Gospels  Consolidated,"  by  a  reference  to 
which,  chapter  by  chapter,  those  who  wish  to  do  so  will  find 
the  groundwork  on  which  this  Life  is  founded. 

Although  the  general  arrangement  of  the  "  Gospels  Con- 
solidated "  has  been  followed,  it  will  be  seen  that  I  have  fre- 
quently deviated  from  it  in  minor  matters.  For  example, 
believing  that  the  reports  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  as 
given  in  Matthew  and  in  Luke,  are  but  two  separate  accounts 
of  the  one  discourse,  I  have  not  treated  Luke's  record  as  that 
of  a  second  delivery  of  the  same  matter,  as  is  sometimes  done. 
The  two  accounts  of  the  discourse  and  uproar  at  Nazareth  I 
have  regarded  as  referring  to  but  a  single  transaction,  while 
the  "  Gospels  Consolidated "  treats  them  as  sepai'ate  events. 
But  such  differences  in  mere  arrangement  are  inevitable,  and 
not  important.  No  two  harmonists  ever  did  agree  in  all  par- 
ticulars, and  it  is  scarcely  possible  that  any  two  ever  will.  The 
very  structure    of  the   Gospels   makes    it   wellnigh   impossible. 

'  Historical  Lectures  on  the  Life  of  Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.     0.  J.  Ellicott. 

"  Tlie  Life  of  Our  Lord  upon  Earth.     Samuel  J.  Andrews. 

°  Imported  and  sold  in  the  United  States  by  John  Wiley  and  Son,  New  York. 

'  I  would  not  be  understood  as  recommending  the  "  Gospels  Consolidated  "  as  a  sub- 
stitute for  the  four  Gospels,  but  as  an  auxiliary.  The  fulness  with  which  transactions 
are  there  made  to  stand  out  will  help  the  common  reader  to  attain  conceptions  to  which 
scholars  come  by  a  laborious  iutercomparison  of  the  four  narratives. 


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PREFA  CE.  vii 

They  are  not  like  the  "  dissected  maps,"  or  pictures,  whose 
severed  parts  can,  with  some  patience,  be  fitted  together  into 
the  original  whole,  a  hundred  times  exactly-  ahke.  They  are 
little  more,  often,  than  copious  indexes  of  a  voluminous  life, 
without  dates  or  order.  It  is  not  probable  that  a  single  note 
Avas  taken,  or  a  line  written,  in  Christ's  hfetime.  The  Gos- 
pels are  children  of  the  memory.  They  were  vocally  delivei-ed 
hundreds  of  times  before  being  written  out  at  all ;  and  tliey 
bear  the  marks  of  such  origin,  in  the  intensity  and  vividness 
of  individual  incidents,  while  chronological  order  and  literary 
miity  are  but  httle  regarded.  In  the  arrangement  of  particu- 
lars, therefore,  when  no  clew  to  the  real  order  of  time  could 
be  found.  I  have  felt  at  liberty  to  select  such  order  as  would 
best  help  the  general  impression. 

That  this  work  may  carry  to  its  readers  the  richest  blessing 
which  I  can  imagine,  a  sympathetic  insight  into  the  heart  of 
its  great  subject,  Jesus  Christ,  the  Redeemer  of  the  world,  and 
a  vital  union  with  him,  is  my  earnest  wish  and  devout  praj'er. 

HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 
Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  August,  1871. 


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CONTENTS   OF  PART  I. 


CHAPTEE    I. 

Page 

Introductory    1 


CHAPTER    II. 
The  Overture  of  Angels         . 8 

CHAPTEE    III. 
The  Doctrinal  Basis 34 

CHAPTER    IV. 

Childhood  and  Residence  at  Nazareth  .         .         ....       42 

CHAPTEE    V. 
The  Voice  in  the  Wilderness  . 63 

CHAPTEE    VI. 
The  Temptation 87 

CHAPTEE    VII. 

Jesus,  his  Personal  Appearaxce      ........     102 

CHAPTEE    VIII. 
The  Outlook  118 

CHAPTEE    IX. 

The  Household  Gate       .  .  .         .         .     1.3G 

4. ^ 


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X  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTEIi    X. 

The  First  JuDiEAN  Ministry 150 

CHAPTEE    XI. 

The  Lesson  at  Jacob's  Well 171 

CHAPTEE    XII. 
Early  Labors  in  Galilee         .         .         .    ■ 189 

CHAPTEE    XIII. 
A  Time  of  Joy 211 

CHAPTEE    XIV. 

The  Sermon  on  the  Mount.  -  -  The  Beatitudes       .....     230 

CHAPTEE    XV. 

The  Sermon  on  the  Mount  (continued)  ......     249 

CHAPTEE    XVI. 

The  Beginning  of  Conflict  .  .....'..     274 

CHAPTEE    XVII. 

Around  the  Sea  of  Galilee    ...         ......     300 


APPENDIX 327 

INDEX 381 


IB- 


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LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

FOR     PART     I. 


ENGRAVINGS   ON   STEEL. 

1.  Head   of   Christ.      Restored,    painted,   and  engraved    by  W.    E.    M.-vr- 

SHALL  ...........    Frontispiece. 

After  photograph  of  the  rapidly  decajring  Supper  Scene  of  Leonardo  da  ■VI^•CI, 
at  Milan. 

2.  Vignette.      Bethlehem,  from  the  Jerusalem  road.      Designed  by  A.   L. 

Rawson.     Engraved  by  R.  Hinshelwood     .....  Title-page 
The  ancient  convent,  "  half  church,  half  fort,"  stands  on  the  east  end  of  a  steep  ridge, 
the  village  being  a  little  to  the  west  on  the  same  hill,  which  is  terraced,  and  well 
cultivated  with  olives,  vines,  iigs,  and  pasturage.     Herod's  burial-place,  the  Frank 
mountain,  is  in  the  distance. 


ENGRAVINGS  ON  AVOOD. 

Designed  hj  k.  L.  Uk'WSO'S.  ^  Drawn  on  IVoodhy  Harry  Fenn  and  the  Designer. — Engraved 
by  W.  J.  and  Henry  D.  Linton. 

The  drawings  are  from  original  sketches  by  the  artist,  and  exchanges  with  other  artists  who 
have  been  in  the  East,  corrected  according  to  photographs,  written  accounts,  personal  conversa- 
tions with  natives,  resident  missionaries,  and  travellers,  and  the  best  works  on  Bible  lands  ; 
credit  for  which  is  given  at  the  end  of  this  list. 

The  instances  in  which  a  restoration  has  been  attempted  will  be  seen  at  once,  and  the  authority 
is  given  in  each  case. 

The  great  and  increasing  interest  in  this  subject  demanded  that  the  illustrations  .should  be  first 
true,  and  then  artistically  excellent  ;  and  this  has  been  the  principle  constantly  held  in  view. 
The  authority  followed  in  locating  disputed  points  is  noted  in  every  such  case  ;  and  due  credit  is 
given  for  all  designs  taken  from  external  sources. 

3.  View  of  the  Temple  of  Herod,  from  Olivet.     Restored  by  Fergdsson. 

(Full  page.)  ..........  Page   1 

"  I  passed  out  of  Jerusalem  by  St.  Stephen's  Gate,  descended  to  Gethsemane,  and  from 
thence  pursued  the  old  road,  which  leads  to  Bethany  by  the  western  slope  of  Olivet, 
overlooking  the  Valley  of  Jehoshaphat.  At  the  summit  of  the  short  ascent,  a  few 
ledges  of  limestone  rock,  carpeted  with  greensward,  crop  out  beside  the  path,  and 
afford  a  natural  resting-place. 

"  The  old  wall  and  the  well-known  corner  of  the  Harem  Ared  were  opposite,  and  so 
vividly  near  in  the  pure,  transparent  atmosphere,  that  the  stones  could  be  counted." 
(Eastward,  McLeod.) 

In  the  restoration  by  Ferousson,  the  above-described  position  was  taken  for  the  view, 
and  the  Temple  is  shown  surrounded  by  its  courts  and  outer  wall  as  it  is  supposed 
to  have  been  in  the  time  of  Christ,  while  Zion,  enclosed  by  its  wall,  crowded  with 
towers,  as  described  by  Josephus,  forms  the  background. 


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LIST   OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


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4.  Angelic  Appearance  to  the  Shepherds.     The  Shepherds'  Field 

Below  and  east  of  the  convent  is  Beit  Sahur,  with  the  ruins  of  a  Greek  church  sur- 
rounded hy  olive-trees,  and  near  these  is  the  tower  of  Ader.  This  is  the  traditional 
scene  of  the  Appearance.  The  terraces  are  built  up  with  stone  walls,  and  are  very 
ancient. 

5.  Angelic  Appearance  to  Zacharias.     High-peiest  with  breastplate.     After 

design  by  T.  0.  Paine 

Zacharias  was  father  to  John  the  Baptist,  and  lived  in  Juttah.  The  breastplate  was 
"woven  with  cunning  work  ;  after  the  work  of  the  ephod  ....  of  gold,  of  blue, 
and  of  purple,  and  of  scarlet,  and  of  fine  twined  linen,  ....  four-square  .... 
being  doubled,  a  span  ....  the  length  thereof,  and  a  span  ....  the  breadth." 
(Exod.  xxviii.  15,  16.) 

6.  Mari/s   Visit  to  Elisabeth,  Mother  of  John  the  Baptist.     Juttah 

"  Si.x  miles  south  of  Hebron,  on  a  rounded  hill,  rising  from  a  beautiful  plain,  which  is 
dotted  with  oaks,  terebinths,  and  other  trees,  besides  orchards  of  frait  and  vines. 
Luke  i.  39."     (Robinson.) 

7.  Birth  of  Jesus.     Bethlehem.     (FuUpage.) 

View  near  the  convent,  looking  southwest.  This  was  an  old  town  in  Jacob's  day, 
called  Ephrath.  The  birthplace  of  David,  the  residence  of  Saul,  Boaz,  and  Ruth. 
Justin  Martyr  (A.  D.  91-165)  says  the  birth  of  Jesus  took  place  "in  a  certain 
cave  very  close  to  the  city."  Tlie  present  convent  is  built  over  the  traditional  site 
of  that  cave.  The  women  of  Bethlehem  are  the  fairest  and  their  houses  are  the 
best  cared  for  in  all  Palestine.     Population,  three  thousand. 

8.  The  Star  of  Bethlehem.     (A  flower.)     Ornithogalum  umbellatum    . 

The  root  is  large,  bulbous,  and  is  eaten  as  a  salad,  or  boiled. 

9.  Visit  of  the  Magi.     "  Wise  men  of  Chaldeea,  the  East"    .... 

Their  gifts  were  gold,  frankincense,  and  myrrh,  — 
"  Gold  as  a  gift  to  a  king. 
Frankincense  as  adoration  to  the  Son  of  God. 
Myrrh  as  the  sign  of  the  Passion  and  the  embalming." 
Frankincense  =:  Boswellia  serrata. 
Myrrh  =  Balsamodendron  inyrrha. 


10.   The  Flight  into  Egypt. 
Akabah    . 


View  in  Wady  Ithm,  ou  the  route  from  Petra  to 


It  was  a  highway  in  Solomon's  day,  and  is  frequented  now.  It  is  a  pass  in  the  eastern 
wall  of  the  Arabah.  The  base  of  the  mountains  is  limestone  and  argillaceous  rock, 
strewed  with  blocks  of  porphyry,  above  which  rise  lofty  masses  of  porphyry  two 
thousand  to  three  thousand  feet.  Fine  pasture.  Moses  led  the  Israelites  through 
this  pass  just  after  the  event  of  the  fiery  sei-pents. 


11.  Vignette.     Angels 


12.  Nazareth,  from  the  north.     {Full  page.)  ..... 

The  home  of  Jesus  in  his  childhood  and  j'outh  ;  is  not  mentioned  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, nor  in  Josephus  ;  is  now  the  chief  town  in  Galilee,  with  five  thousand  people. 
The  view  from  the  height  northwest  of  the  town  (Naby  Ismail,  eighteen  hundred 
feet  high)  is  the  finest  iu  Palestine,  comprising  the  snow-capped  Hermon,  Hattin, 


16 


22 


27 


28 


30 


33 

46 


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LIST   OF  ILLUSTRATIONS.  xiii 

and  the  mountains  aiound  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  Gilead,  Tabor,  Gilboa,  Moreh, 
Samaria,  Esdraelou,  Carmel,  the  bay  and  town  of  Acre,  and  the  blue  Mediter- 
ranean.    Fifty-five  mOes,  air-line,  from  Jerusalem. 

13.  Presentation  in  the  Temple.      Temple-porch.      After   design  by  T.    0. 
Paine 52 

14.  Temple  Interior.     (T.  0.  Paine.) 57 

15.  John  the  Baptist  in  the   Wilderness.      View  from  Olivet,  looking  towards 
Jordan,  the  Dead  Sea,  and  the  Moab  Mountains.     (Fuii  page.)     .        .       63 

All  travellers  make  a  point  of  seeing  this  view,  as  it  is  very  interesting.  The  Dead 
Sea  is  more  than  four  thousand  feet  below,  and  about  twelve  miles  distant, 
although  seeming  much  nearer.  The  region  between  Olivet  and  the  sea  is  the 
Wilderness  of  Judsa,  and  is  formed  of  steep  rocky  hills,  treeless,  but  with  good 
pasturage.  It  is  now,  as  anciently,  without  settled  inhabitants,  a  country  of 
nomads.  The  course  of  the  Jordan  can  be  traced  for  many  miles  by  the  dark  green 
line  of  vegetation.  The  Moab  Mountains  form  a  great  wall  to  the  east,  dividing 
the  so  well  known  Palestine  from  the  almost  unknown  Arabia. 

1 6.  John  baptising  in  the  Wilderness.     The  Ghoh,  —  or  Jordan  Valley,  —  near 

Bethshan         ••••......  73 

"The  Wilderness"  is  the  name  of  the  whole  Jordan  valley,  from  the  Sea  of  Galilee 
to  the  Dead  Sea.  It  is  distinctly  outlined  in  its  whole  course  by  walls  of  whitish- 
yellow  rocks,  behind  which  rise  the  range  of  Samaria  to  the  west,  three  thousand 
feet  high,  and  that  of  Gilead  to  the  east,  live  thousand  feet  above  the  valley,  which 
is  six  miles  wide  at  this  place,  and  twelve  at  Jericho.  It  is  not  level,  but  full  of 
rolling  hills. 

1 7.  Bapti%m  of  Jesus  bi/  John.     View  of  the  River  Jordan,  near  the  Jews' 
Castle  (east  of  Jericho),  the  Latin  bathing-place.     (Fuu  page.)        .         .       80 

The  lower  banks  of  the  stream  are  clay  and  marl,  some  ten  feet  high,  luxuriant  with 
oleanders,  tamarisks,  willows,  reeds,  and  many  other  flowers  and  shrubs,  besides 
shady  trees.  The  river-bed  is  eighty  to  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  wide,  and  five 
to  twelve  feet  deep.  The  second  banks  are  one  hundred  and  fifty  to  two  hundred 
feet  high,  and  form  a  ravine  five  hundred  to  fifteen  hundred  feet  wide.  Above 
these  the  plain  extends  back  to  the  mountain  ranges  of  Moab  on  the  east,  which 
is  near,  and  of  Judaea  on  the  west,  which  is  twelve  miles  distant.  The  plain  of 
Jericho,  extending  away  from  the  west  bank,  is  now  bleak,  desolate,  treeless,  and 
crusted  with  salts,  with  many  heaps  and  mounds  of  rains,  the  remains  of  ancient 
cities.     Thousands  of  pilgiims  go  down  to  bathe  in  Jordan  at  Easter. 

18.  John  the  Baptist  in  Prison.     Machjerus 83 

"A  very  rocky  hill,  elevated  to  a  very  great  height,  ditched  about  with  valleys  on 

all  sides  to  such  a  depth  that  the  eye  cannot  reach  their  bottoms,  that  on  the  west 
reaching  to  the  Lake  Asphaltites  ;  and  on  that  same  side  the  castle  had  the  tallest 
top  of  its  hill  elevated  above  the  rest."  (Josephus,  Wars,  Lib.  VI.  c.  1.)  The 
cliff's  are  two  hundred  feet  high,  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  apart,  and  the  stream 
from  the  hot  springs  of  Callirrohoe  is  sLx  to  ten  inches  deep,  and  runs  at  the  rate 
of  nearly  four  miles  an  hour. 

19.  The  Temptation.      MouNT  Quarantania,  near  Jericho     ....       87 
A  bleak,  bare,  rocky  height,  about  two  thousand  feet  high,  crowned  with  a  ruinous 

chapel,  and  pierced  with  countless  cells,  used  during  the  Middle  Ages  by  hermits. 

* ^ 


a ^ 

xiv  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

The  square  tower  is  a  relic  of  the  crusaders,  and  the  pabn-tree  beside  it,  the  last 
remnant  of  those  so  celebrated  by  Josephus,  fell  only*a  few  years  since. 

20.  Heads  of  Christ.     (FuUpage.) 102 

Out  of  the  multitudes  of  heads  giiiug  artistic  faucies  as  to  the  personal  look  of  Jesus, 
six  have  been  selected  as  representative.  First  is  that  of  Leonardo  da  Vinci 
(b.  1452,  d.  1519),  reproduced  in  the  frontispiece.  On  the  page  facuig  p.  102 
are  five  :  No.  1.  From  the  earliest  picture  of  Christ  that  is  linowu,  a  fresco  in 
the  catacombs  of  St.  Cali-xtus,  near  Rome,  fourth  century  ;  No.  2.  From  an  emerald 
intaglio  of  the  si.xth  century,  now  in  Rome,  given  out  of  the  treasury  of  Constan- 
tinople to  Pope  Innocent  VIII.  for  the  redemption  of  the  brother  of  the  Emperor 
of  the  Turks,  tlien  a  prisoner  of  the  Christians  ;  No.  3.  From  a  PietA,  or  "Dead 
Christ,"  by  the  Italian  painter  Raibolini  of  Bologna,  known  as  Francisco  Francia 
(b.  1450,  d.  1517)  ;  No.  4.  From  a  crucifix  by  Albrecht  Diirer,  the  great  German 
painter  and  engraver  (b.  1471,  d.  152S)  ;  No.  5.  From  a  painting  by  Paul  de  la 
Roche,  the  French  artist   (b.  1797,  d.  1856). 

21.  General  Map  of  Palestine.     (Two  pages.) 118 

22.  The  First  Miracle,  at  Cana.     Kana  el  Jelil 136 

A  pretty  village  nine  miles  north  of  Nazareth,   on  the  side  of  a  rounded  hill  which 

rises  from  the  plain  of  Buttauf,  near  the  foot  of  Jebel  Kaukab,  now  ruinous  and 
thinly  peopled.  The  healing  of  the  nobleman's  son,  who  was  sick  at  Capernaum, 
was  wrought  here  also. 

23.  "  And  thou,  Capernaum,  which  art  exalted  to  heaven,  shall  be  thrust  doion 
to  hell."  (Luke  x.  15.)  Tell  Hum,  looking  south-eiistwardly  over 
the  Sea  of  Galilee.     (Fuiipagc).         .         .         .         .         .         .         .     H7 

The  site  of  Capernaum  is  not  settled  beyond  dispute,  but  is  located  on  this  spot  by 
some  late  travellei-s,  among  whom  is  Thomson.  [The  Land  and  the  Book,  Vol.  I. 
p.  543.)  There  are  found  here  the  iiiins  of  a  great  temple  or  synagogue,  besides 
those  of  many  other  buildings,  extending  over  a  space  a  half-mile  long  by  a  quarter- 
mile  wide. 

24.  Chorazin  and  Bethsaida.  View  near  the  mouth  of  the  Jordan,  on  the 
Lake  of  Galilee     .         .         . ^^^ 

Ruins  on  both  sides  of  the  river  mark  the  sites  of  ancient  cities,  but  their  names 
have  been  lost.  Chorazin,  Bethsaida,  and  Capernaum  were  in  this  region,  but  can- 
not be  distinguished. 

25.  Passover.     Clearing  the  Temple.     Figures  by  Schnorh.     (Fuiipage.)       .     150 

26.  Plan  of  the  Temple,  according  to  Fergusson's  restoration  .         .     154 
The  gi-ound-plan  is  given  below,  and  above  is  a  longitudinal  section,  on  an  east 

and  west  Hue,  showing  the  elevation  of  the  different  portions. 

27.  Temple  Interior,  after  T.  0.  Paine 156 

Figure,  in  modern  costume,  selling  doves. 

19,.  The  Woman  of  Samaria  at  Jacob's  Well.     (Fuiipage.)  .         .         .         .171 

The  well  is  in  the  Plain  of  Mukhna,  a  mUe  or  more  from  Shechem,  to  the  south- 
east, near  the  foot  of  Mount  Gerizim,  on  a  ridge  twenty  feet  above  the  general  level. 
The  shaft  is  nine  feet  in  diameter,  circular,  smooth,  and  at  present  seventy-five 

T 


^ 


a- 


-^ 


LIST   OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

feet  to  the  dry  bottom.  It  was  probably  much  deeper  anciently,  and  is  partly 
filled  with  rubbish,  estimated  to  a  depth  of  thirty  feet.  Jerome  mentions  a  church 
over  the  well,  A.  D.  404  ;  and  Antoninus  Martyr  in  the  sixth  century,  Arculfus  in 
the  seventh,  and  Willibald  in  the  eighth,  describe  the  church  as  in  the  form  of  a 
cross  ;  but  in  1103  Saewulf  and  in  11S5  Phoca  .saw  none,  and  only  ruins  have  been 
since  mentioned,  to  this  time. 
The  tomb  of  the  Patriarch  Joseph  is  at  the  foot  of  Jlouut  Ebal,  a  half-mile  nearer 
Shechem. 

29.  Plucking  Grain  on  the  Sabbath.      Plaix    op    Maneh   (Manahaim),   iu 
Bashan,  beyond  Jordan    .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .189 

Here  are  very  e.xtensive  and  massive  rains.  The  site  recalls  many  historic  incidents 
connected  with  Jacob  and  the  angel,  the  crowning  of  Saul's  son  Ishbosheth,  the 
refuge  of  David,  the  rebellion  of  Absalom,  and  Absalom's  death  in  an  oak. 
There  are  still  extensive  forests  of  oak  and  other  trees  in  this  region. 

30.  Map.     Vicinity  of  Nazareth  and  Capernaum,  Galilee     .         .         .194 

31.  Rejected  at  Nazareth.     View  near  the  Maronite  Church         .         .         .     19G 
There  are  several  rocky  and  steep  places  along  the  brow  of  the  hill  behind  Nazareth, 

any  one  of  which  would  answer  the  demand  of  the  text. 

32.  Healing  at  the  Pool  of  Bethesda.     Silo  am 1'J9 

Showing  the  end  of  the  conduit  leading  from  the  Virgin's  Fountain.     It  is  on  the 

southern  end  of  Ophel,  fifty-three  feet  long  by  eighteen  wide  and  nineteen  deep. 

33.  Syrian  and  Egyptian  Wheat-Ears  .......     205 

34.  Circuit  in  Galilee.     Plain  of  Buttauf  and  Jebel  Kaukab  .         .         .211 
The  plain  is  well  watered  and  cultivated  in  grain  and  orchards,  beautified  with  flowers 

and  shade-trees,  and  made  pleasant  by  a  great  variety  of  singing-birds.     Kaukab 
is  one  thousand  eight  hundred  and  fifty  feet  high. 

35.  Teaching  from  a  Ship.     Boats  and  Figures  .....     223 

36.  The  Lake  of  Genesareth,  or  Sea  of  Galilee      .....     224 
Northeasterly  view,  from  the  northwestern  shore  of  the  lake  across  towards  Beth- 

saida  and  Tell  Hum,  or  Capernaum. 

37.  Sermon  on  the  Mount.     Kurun  Hattin  (Horns  of  Hattiu).     (Full  page.)  230 
"This  is  the  chief  height  seen  in  the  region  we-st  of  Lake  Tiberias.     The  plain  on 

which  it  stands  is  easily  accessible,  and  from  that  to  the  summit  is  but  a  few 

minutes'  walk."     (Stanley.) 
"Here   the  last  battle  between  the  Christians,   under  Reynald  of  Chatillon,   and 

the  Moslems,    under  Saladiu,   was  fought  July  5,   1157."     (Prime,    Tent  Life, 

ch.  21.) 
The  high  plateau  of  El  Khanzir  (the  hog)  is  seen  in  the  distance,  and  snowy  Hermon 

above  and  beycnd. 

38.  Candlestick.     (Matt.  v.  15.)     Lamp  on  an  ancient  candlestick  (the  small 
jug  is  for  holding  oil).     Found  at  Tyre  by  Robert  Morrls,  LL.  D., 

1868 249 

I 

^U- ' -ff 


n0 a 

xvi  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIOj^S. 

39.  Burning  Dry  Grass  in  Ovens.     (Luke  xii.  28.)        .         .         ...         .     265 

Bread  is  baked  by  spreading  thin  dougii  on  the  outside  of  the  heated  oven. 

■40.   "  For  every  tree  is  known  hy  its  fruits."     Br.\mble  and  Thorn.     Rubus 

fruticosus  (blackbeny),  and  Lycium  horridum  .....     266 

41.  ^^  Consider  the  lilies  of  the  field.'"     Lilies  gathered  by  Robert  Morris, 
LL.  D.,  in  the  summer  of  1868 271 

At  the  top  is  the  Lebanon,  the  ne.\t  below  is  an  orange-colored  amarylUi  ;  then  the 

Huleh  lily  ;  and  last  the  dark  scarlet  Chalcedonicum  lily. 
Lilies  are  abundant  in  Palestine,  and  luxuriant,  and  of  great  size  and  beauty. 

42.  Raising  the  Widows  Son.     Nain  and  Jebel  Duhy,  or  Little  Hermon,  the 
ancient  Hill  of  Moreh        .........     274 

A  little  village  of  poor  houses,  on  the  southern  slope  of  the  mountains,  commanding 
a  wide  and  beautiful  prospect  over  Galilee.  Ruins  and  tombs  witness  its  ancient 
importance. 

43.  Scene  on  the  Upper  Jordan.     A  Swamp  of  Papyrus  Reeds.     (FuUpage.)      .     283 
The  idea  and  general  view  were  taken  from  Macgregor's  most  interesting  "Rob  Roy 

on  the  Jordan  "  ;  but  the  scene  is  worked  up  anew,  and  the  reeds  are  studied  from 
both  the  Syrian  and  the  Egyptian  papyrus.  The  new  is  found  among  the  upper 
sources  of  the  Jordan  ;  looming  above  the  horizon,  to  the  north,  is  the  "rounded 
head  of  splendid,  glittering  Hermon,"  while,  to  the  left,  is  seen  "the  far-off  snow 
on  the  sharp  indented  Sunnin,  chief  of  the  Lebanon  range." 

44.  Jesus  by  the  Sea.     The  Fountai.v  at  Tabiga.     (FuU  page.)  .         .         .     300 
There  are  a  number  of  fountains  and  streams,  aqueducts  and  pools,  in  a  little  nook, 

close  to  the  shore  of  the  Galilean  lake.  The  Arabs  have  built  mills  over  some  of 
the  streams. 

45.  The  barren  Fig-tree.      Fig  and   Leaves 310 

The  fig  is  one  of  the  staple  products  of  Palestine.     It  is  mentioned  in  Genesis,  was 

brought  out  from  Canaan  by  the  spies,  and  is  yet  extensively  cultivated. 

46.  Parable  of  the  Sower.     (Matt,  xiii.) 317 

0,\en,  camels,  cows,  and  asses  are  used  to  draw  the  plough,  which  is  of  wood,  shod 

with  iron  ;  and  the  work  is  done  in  the  rainy  season.  The  goad  is  a  pointed  pole, 
shod  with  an  iron  spade  for  cleaning  the  plough. 

47.  Mustard.     (Matt.  xiii.  31.)     Sinapis  nigra 322 

There  are  several  plants,  any  one  of  which  would  ansv.xr  the  requii-ements  of  the  te.xt ; 

and  each  one  has  its  advocate  as  the  real  one  designated. 

48.  Tel  Hum  (one  of  the  supposed  sites  of  Capernaum),  from  the  shore  west 
of  the  hiU 325 


^ ^ ^ 


MAPS.  — ACKNOWLEDGMENTS.  xvii        i 

MAPS. 

Constructed  by  A.  L.  Rawsox.  —  Engraved  by  G.  W.  k  C.  B.  Colton  &  Co. 

In  preparing  the  JIaps,  use  was  made  of  the  latest  works  of  Van  de  Velde  and 
of  the  French  and  English  surveys,  these  being  corrected  by  every  means  of  later 
information  accessible. 

The  General  Map  comprises  the  whole  country  visited  by  Jesus  (except  the 
journey  in  infancy  to  Egypt),  giving  but  a  few  of  the  most  important  names. 

The  Vicinity  of  Nazareth  and  Capernaum  is  quite  full  in  detail,  showing  how 
many  towns  there  ai-e  or  were  in  this  region  (though  nearly  one  half  of  the  whole 
have  been  omitted,  to  avoid  crowding). 

The  Plan  op  the  Temple  of  Herod  is  after  Fergusson. 


ACKNOWLEDGMENTS. 

The  designer  wishes  to  acknowledge  his  obligations  for  favors  shown  him  in 
the  loan  of  sketches  and  photographs,  in  the  inspection  and  criticism  of  his  de- 
signs, and  in  the  loan  of  coins,  lamps,  bottles,  and  many  articles,  illustrations 
of  which  appear  in  either  the  first  or  the  second  volume  of  this  work,  to  W.  C. 
Prime,  New  York  ;  Dr.  Vandyke,  Beirut,  Syria ;  L.  Murad,  United  States  Vice- 
Consul  at  Jerusalem  ;  W.  E.  James,  of  Brooklyn,  photographer  on  the  voyage  of 
the  Quaker  City ;  Virtue  &  Yorston  (Frith's  photogi'aphs  in  the  Queen's  Bible) ; 
Dr.  E.  Pierotti,  Jerusalem  ;  Lieutenant  Charles  Warren,  R.  E.  (plans,  etc.,  of 
the  exploration  now  going  on  in  Palestine) ;  Robert  Morris,  LL.  D.  (pressed  flow- 
ers gathered  by  him  in  Palestine  in  the  summer  of  18G8,  and  Map  of  the  proposed 
railroad  from  Joppa  to  Jerusalem,  giving  a  minute  survey  of  ever}-  site,  ancient 
and  modern,  on  the  route) ;  Dr.  W.  H.  Bidwell,  Editor  Eclectic  Magazine ;  and 
E.  it  H.  T.  Anthony,  photographic  publishers ;  besides  many  others,  whose  ser- 
vices have  been  as  cheerfully  given  and  as  valuable,  but  whose  names  are  omitted 
at  their  request. 


ft- 


a ^ 


CD 


CHAPTER    I. 

INTRODUCTORY. 

HOW  well  the  Hebrew  Priest,  but  especially  the  Prophet,  had 
done  his  work,  may  best  be  seen  in  that  moral  element 
which  made  Judaism  to  religion  what  the  Greek  spirit  had  been 
to  the  intellectual  life  of  the  world.  Nowhere  out  of  Judaea 
were  to  be  found  such  passionate  moral  fervor  and  such  intense 
spiritual  yearnings.  But  this  spirit  had  spent  itself  as  a  formative 
poAver ;  it  had  already  overshot  the  multitude,  while  higher 
natures  were  goaded  by  it  to  excess.  There  was  need  of  a  new 
religious  education.  This  was  the  desire  and  expectation  of  the 
best  men  of  the  Jewish  Church.  How  their  spiritual  quickening 
was  to  come,  they  knew  not.  That  it  was  coming  was  generally 
believed,  and  also  that  the  approaching  deliverance  would  in  some 
mysterious  way  bring  God  nearer  to  men.  "  Of  the  day  and  of 
the  hour"  knew  no  man.  The  day  had  come  when  a  new  mani- 
festation of  God  was  to  be  made.  A  God  of  holiness,  a  God  of 
power,  and  a  God  of  mercy  had  been  clearly  revealed.  The  Di- 
vine Spirit  was  now  to  be  clothed  with  flesh,  subjected  to  the 
ordmary  laws  of  matter,  placed  in  those  conditions  in  which  men 
live,  become  the  subject  of  care,  weariness,  sorrow,  and  of  death 
itself. 

The  history  of  this  divine  incarnation  Ave  are  now  to  trace,  in 
so  far  as  the  religious  knoAvledge  Avhich  has  sprung  from  it  can  be 
carried  back  to  its  sources,  and  be  made  to  illustrate  the  sublime 
truths  and  events  of  the  Lord's  earthly  mission. 

Since  there  are  four  inspired  lives  of  our  Lord,  —  two  of  them 
by  the  hands  of  disciples  who  Avere  eye-Avitnesses  of  the  events 
recorded,  namely,  those  by  MatthcAA^  and  John,  and  tAvo,  those  of 
Mark  and  Luke,  by  men  avIio,  though  not  disciples,  Avere  j-et  the 
companions  of  the  Apostles,  and  deriA-ed  their  materials,  in  part, 
from  them,  —  Avhy  should  it  be  necessary  to  frame  other  histories 

^ S 


2  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,  THE  CHRIST. 

of  Jesus,  the  Chi'ist  ?  Since  tlie  materials  for  any  new  life  of 
Christ  must  be  derived  from  the  four  Evangelists,  is  it  likely  that 
uninspired  men,  after  a  lapse  of  nearly  nineteen  hundred  years, 
can  do  better  than  ihey  did  who  were  either  witnesses  or  contem- 
poraries of  the  Lord,  and  who  were  appointed  and  guided  by  the 
Divine  Spirit  to  make  a  record  of  truth  for  all  time  ? 

The  impression  produced  by  such  suggestions  will  be  materially 
modified  upon  a  close  examination  of  the  Gospels. 

1.  The  very  fact  that  there  are  four  lives,  which  strikes  one  as 
a  fourfold  blessing,  and  which  surely  is  an  advantage,  carries  with 
it  also  certain  disadvantages.  For  a  clear  view  of  the  life  and 
teachings  of  our  Lord,  four  fields  are  to  be  reaped  instead  of  one. 

The  early  ages  needed  testimony  ;  our  age  needs  teaching. 
Four  Avitnesses  are  better  for  testimony.  But  for  biography  one 
complete  narrative,  combining  in  it  the  materials  of  the  four, 
would  have  given  a  picture  of  our  Lord  more  in  accordance  with 
the  habits  and  wants  of  men  in  our  day. 

This  diversity  of  witnesses  subserves  other  important  ends.  No 
single  man  could  have  represented  all  sides  of  the  Saviour's 
teaching.  A  comparison  of  Matthew's  Gospel  with  that  of  John 
will  show  how  much  would  have  been  lost,  had  there  been  only  a 
single  collector  and  reporter  of  Christ's  discourses. 

It  is  not  easy,  even  for  one  trained  to  investigation,  to  gather 
out  of  the  four  Evangelists  a  clear  and  consistent  narrative  of  our 
Lord's  ministry ;  and  still  less  will  unstudious  men  succeed  in 
doing  it. 

No  one  will  deny  that  every  Christian  man  should  seek  a  com- 
prehensive, and  not  a  fragmentary,  knowledge  of  his  Lord.  In 
other  words,  every  Christian  reader  seeks,  for  himself,  out  of  the 
other  four,  to  wCc.ve  a  fifth  life  of  Christ.  Why  should  not  this 
indispensable  Avork  be  performed  for  men,  with  all  the  aids  of 
elaborate  investigation  ? 

2.  The  impression  derived  from  this  general  view  is  greatly 
strengthened  by  a  critical  examination  of  the  contents  of  the 
Gospels. 

It  is  one  of  the  striking  facts  in  history,  that  One  whose  teach- 
ings were  to  revolutionize  human  ideas,  and  to  create  a  new  era 
in  the  world's  affairs,  did  not  commit  a  single  syllable  to  paper, 
and  did  not  organize  a  single  institution.    An  unlimited  power  of 

^ — ^ 


[^ ^ -^ 

INTRODUCTORY.  3 

acting  ujion  the  -world  without  the^e  subsidiary  and,  to  men,  in- 
dispensable instruments,  —  viz.  writing  and  organization,  —  and 
only  by  the  enunciation  of  absolute  truths  in  their  relation  to 
human  conduct,  is  one  of  the  marks  of  Divinity. 

There  is  no  evidence  that  Jesus  appointed  any  of  his  disciples 
to  perform  the  work  of  an  historian.  None  of  thein  claim  such 
authorization.  Only  Luke  '  makes  any  reference  to  the  motives 
which  led  him  to  undertake  the  task  of  writing,  and  he  claims  no 
other  than  a  personal  desire  to  record  a  knowledge  which  he 
deemed  fuller  than  that  of  others. 

The  four  Gospels  are  evidently  final  and  authoritative  collec- 
tions of  oral  histories  and  compilations  of  narratives  which  were 
ali'eady  circulating  among  the  earl}'  Christians.  In  the  ca.scs  of 
Matthew  and  John,  these  materials  were  Avrought  upon  the  fabric 
of  their  own  personal  observation  and  experience. 

There  is  in  none  of  them  any  consistent  regard  to  the  order  of 
time  or  of  place.  The  principle  of  arrangement  evidently  is  to 
be  found  in  the  moral  similarities  of  the  materials,  and  not  in  their 
chronological  sequences.  Different  events  are  clustered  together 
which  were  widely  separated.  Whole  chapters  of  parables  are 
given  as  if  they  had  been  delivered  in  a  single  discourse.  We 
should  never  have  known  from  Matthew,  Mark,  or  Luke,  that  our 
Lord  was  accustomed  to  go  up  to  Jerusalem  to  the  great  Jewish 
feasts ;  but  we  do  get  it  from  John,  who  is  mainly  concerned  with 
the  history  and  discourses  of  his  Master  in  Juda?a.  Matthew,  on 
the  other  hand,  bestows  his  attention  upon  that  part  of  the 
Saviour's  life  which  was  spent  in  Galilee.  Moreover,  he  seldom 
enters,  as  John  does,  upon  interior  and  profoundly  spiritual  ex- 
periences. John  almost  as  little  notices  the  merely  external  facts 
and  events  of  the  Lord's  life,  which  Matthew  habitually  regards.^ 

'  Luke  i  I  -  4.  "  Forasmuch  as  many  have  taken  in  hand  to  set  forth  in  order  a  dec- 
laration of  those  things  which  are  most  surely  believed  among  us,  even  as  they  delivered 
them  unto  us,  which  from  the  beginning  were  eye-witnesses  and  ministers  of  the  word  ;  it 
seemed  good  to  me  also,  having  had  perfect  understanding  of  all  things  from  the  very  first, 
to  write  unto  thee  in  order,  most  excellent  Theophilns,  that  thou  mightost  know  the  cer- 
tainty of  those  things  wherein  thou  hast  been  instructed." 

"  "The  first  three  Evangelists  describe  especially  those  things  which  Christ  did  in  our 
flesh,  and  relate  the  precepts  which  He  delivered  on  the  duties  to  be  performed  by  us, 
while  we  walk,  on  earth  and  dwell  in  the  flesh.  But  St.  John  soars  to  he.nren,  as  an  eagle, 
above  the  clouds  of  human  infirmity,  and  reveals  to  us  the  mysteries  of  Christ's  Godhead, 
and  of  the  Trinity  in  Unity,  and  the  felicities  of  Life  Eternal,  and  gazes  on  the  Light  cf 

^ -S 


4  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,  THE  CUEIST. 

In  their  structure  the  Evangelical  narratives  have  been  well 
compared  to  Xenophon's  Memorabilia  of  Socrates.  They  are 
clusters  of  events,  parables,  miracles,  discourses,  in  which  the 
order  of  time  is  sometimes  obscure,  and  sometunes  wholly  in- 
verted. 

In  every  age  of  the  Church  it  has  been  deemed  wise  to  at- 
tempt to  form  a  harmony  of  the  four  Gospels.  Since  the  year 
A.  D.  1500,  there  have  been  more  than  ^////  harmonies  made  by 
most  eminent  Christian  scholars.  Of  Lives  of  Christ  and  Har- 
monies there  have  been  more  than  one  hundred  and  jiffy. 

But  for  some  such  help,  the  difficulties  arising  from  a  compari- 
son of  the  different  narratives  would  be  insoluble.  Many  obsta- 
cles are  thus  removed,  many  apparent  contradictions  are  congru- 
ouslv  explained,  many  apparent  inconsistencies  are  harmonized  ; 
and  it  is  shown  that,  of  the  inexplicable  facts  remaining,  none 
are  important,  —  certainly  not  as  respects  the  great  truths  or  the 
essential  events  of  the  narrative. 

3.  It  is  probable  that  no  equal  amount  of  truth  Avas  ever  ex- 
pressed in  a  mode  so  well  fitted  for  universal  circulation.  And 
yet,  as  the  Gospels  were  written  by  Jews,  and  with  primary  ref- 
erence to  certain  wants  of  the  age  in  which  the  writers  lived, 
they  are  full  of  allusions,  references,  customs,  and  beliefs,  which 
have  long  since  passed  away  or  have  become  greatly  modified. 
There  are  also  in  the  New  Testament  allusions  to  customs  of 
which  there  is  no  knowledge  whatever  preserved. 

But  far  more  important  is  it  to  observe  the  habits  of  thought, 
the  whole  mental  attitude  of  the  Apostolic  age,  and  the  change 
which  has  since  come  upon  the  world.  Truths  remain  the  same ; 
but  every  age  has  its  own  style  of  thought.  Although  this  differ- 
ence is  not  so  great  as  is  the  difference  between  one  language 
and  another,  it  is  yet  so  great  as  to  require  restatement  or,  as  it 
were,  translation.  The  truth  which  Paul  argues  to  the  Romans 
is  as  important  for  us  as  it  was  for  them.  But  we  are  not  Jews.^ 
We  care  nothing  for  circumcision.     The  Hebrew  law  has  never 

Immutable  Truth  with  a  keen  and  steady  ken."  —  Si.  Augustine,  translated  by  Dr.  Words- 
worth.    Introduction  to  Commentaries  on  the  New  Testament. 

'  Jews  were  dispersed  through  all  the  civilized  world,  and  in  general,  both  in  Greek 
and  Roman  cities,  there  were  synagogues,  in  which  the  Old  Testament  Scriptures  were 
read,  and  in  which  the  Apostles  made  known  to  their  own  countrymen  the  fulfilment  of 
those  Scriptures  in  the  history  of  our  Lord.     See  Acts  xxviii.  10  -  24. 

4- -^ 


^ ^ 

INTRODUCTORT. 


-a 


entangled  ns.  We  have  our  prejudices  and  obstinacies,  but  \\\Qy 
are  not  the  same  as  those  Avhich  the  Apostle  combated.  The 
truth  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  when  separated  from  the 
stalls;  and  ear  on  which  it  grew,  is  of  universal  nutrunent.  But 
in  Paul's  own  day  the  stem  and  the  husk  also  were  green  and 
succulent ;  they  were  living  and  indispensable  parts  of  his  state- 
ment of  the  truth.  Far  less  is  this  distinction  applicable  to  the 
Gospels,  and  yet  it  is,  in  a  measure,  true  of  them. 

Our  age  has  developed  wants  no  deeper,  perhaps,  nor  more 
important,  than  those  in  the  Apostolic  age,  but  needs  essentially 
different.  We  live  for  different  ends.  We  have  other  aspira- 
tions. We  are  plagued  with  new  infidelities  of  our  own.  We 
are  proud  in  a  different  way,  and  vain  after  our  own  manner.  To 
meet  all  these  ever-changing  necessities  of  the  human  heart  and 
of  society,  men  are  ordained  to  preach  the  gospel.  If  merely 
reading  the  text  as  it  was  originally  delivered  were  enough,  whv 
should  there  be  preachers  ?  It  is  the  business  of  preachers  to  re- 
adapt  truth,  from  age  to  age,  to  men's  ever-renewing  wants. 

And  what  is  this,  but  doing  by  single  passages  of  Scripture 
what  a  Life  of  Christ  attempts  to  do  systematically,  and  in  some 
dramatic  form,  for  the  whole  ?  Some  have  said,  almost  contemp- 
tuously, "  The  only  good  Lives  of  Christ  are  those  by  the  four 
Evangelists."  And  yet  these  very  men  are  so  little  content  with 
these  same  Evangelists,  that  they  spend  their  lives  in  restating, 
illustrating,  and  newly  applying  the  substance  and  matter  of  the 
Evangelical  writings,  —  thus  by  their  own  most  sensible  example 
refuting  their  own  most  foolish  criticism ! 

4.  But  there  are  reasons  yet  deeper  why  the  Life  of  Christ 
should  be  rewritten  for  each  and  every  age.  The  life  of  the 
Christian  Church  has,  in  one  point  of  view,  been  a  gradual  unfold- 
ing and  interpretation  of  the  spiritual  truths  of  the  Gospels.  The 
knowledge  of  the  human  heart,  of  its  yearnings,  its  failures,  its 
sins  and  sorrows,  has  immensely  increased  in  the  progress  of 
centuries. 

Hjis  nothing  been  learned  by  the  Chi-istian  world  of  the  meth- 
ods of  moral  government,  of  the  communion  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
of  the  power  of  the  Divine  Sjiii'lt  to  cleanse,  enrich,  and  fire  the 
sold,  after  so  many  centuries  of  experience  ?  Has  this  world  no 
lore  of  love,  no  stoi'es  of  faith,  no  experience  of  joy  unfolded 

^ ^ ^ 


a ^ -a 

6  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,  THE  CHRIST. 

from  the  original  germs,  which  shall  fit  it  to  go  back  to  the  truths 
of  the  New  Testament  with  a  far  larger  understanding  of  their 
contents  than  ihe//  had  who  wrote  them  ?  Prophets  do  not  alwa^'s 
understand  their  own  visions ;  Apostles  deliver  truths  which  are 
far  deeper,  and  more  glorious  in  their  ulterior  forms,  than  even 
their  utterers  suspect. 

It  is  both  a  privilege  and  a  duty  of  the  Church  of  Christ  to 
gather  up,  from  time  to  time,  these  living  commentaries  upon 
divine  truth,  —  these  divine  interpretations,  by  means  of  human 
experience,  of  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus,  —  and  carry  back  this 
light  and  knowledge  to  the  primal  forms  and  symbols.  Our  Lord 
himself  declared  that  his  kingdom  of  truth  was  as  a  seed.  But 
what  shall  interpret  a  seed  like  its  own  growth  and  harvest  ?  To 
us  the  narratives  of  the  Gospel  ought  to  mean  far  more  than  to 
the  primitive  disciple,  or  they  have  been  germs  Avithout  develop- 
ment, seed  witliout  a  harvest. 

All  critics  of  the  Gospels,  though,  in  each  group,  differing  by 
many  shades  among  themselves,  may  be  reduced  to  two  classes:  — 

1.  Those  who  believe  that  the  writings  of  the  Evangelists  are 
authentic  historical  documents,  that  they  were  divinely  inspired, 
and  that  the  supernatural  elements  contained  in  them  are  real, 
and  to  be  ci-edited  as  much  as  any  other  parts  of  the  history ; 
and, — 

2.  Those  who  deny  the  inspiration  of  the  Gospels,  regarding 
them  as  unassisted  human  productions,  filled  with  mistakes  and 
inaccui-acies  ;  especially,  as  filled  with  superstitions  and  pretended 
miracles. 

These  latter  critics  set  aside  all  traces  of  the  sujiernatural. 
They  feel  at  liberty  to  reject  all  miracles,  either  summarily,  with 
"  philosophic "  contempt,  or  by  explanations  as  wonderful  as  the 
miracles  are  marvellous.  In  effect,  they  act  as  if  there  could  be  no 
evidence  except  that  which  addresses  itself  to  the  material  senses. 
Such  reasoning  chains  philosophy  to  matter :  to  which  statement 
many  already  do  not  object,  but  boldly  claim  that,  in  our  present 
condition,  no  truth  can  be  hiown  to  men  excejit  that  which  con- 
forms itself  to  physical  laws.  There  is  a  step  further,  and  one 
that  must  soon  be  taken,  if  these  reasons  are  logically  consistent ; 
namely,  to  hold  that  there  is  no  evidence  of  a  God,  unless  Nature 
be  that  God.  And  this  is  Pantheism,  which,  being  interpreted,  is 
Atheism. 

[ft- -ff 


^ -& 

INTRODUCTORY.  7 

\Ye  scarcely  need  to  say,  that  we  shall  take  our  stand  with 
those  who  accept  the  New  Testament  as  a  collection  of  veritable 
historical  documents,  with  the  record  of  miracles,  and  with  the 
train  of  sjiiritual  phenomena,  as  of  absolute  and  literal  truth. 
The  miraculous  element  constitutes  the  very  nerve-system  of  the 
Gospel.  To  withdraw  it  from  credence  is  to  leave  the  Gospel 
histories  a  mere  shajDcless  mass  of  pulji. 

What  is  left  when  these  venerable  records  are  stripped  of  the 
ministry  of  angels,  of  the  mystery  of  the  divine  incarnation,  of 
the  wonders  and  miracles  which  accompanied  our  Lord  at  every 
step  of  his  career?  Christ's  miracles  were  not  occasional  and  oc- 
cult, but  in  a  long  series,  with  every  degree  of  publicity,  involv- 
ing almost  every  element  of  nature,  and  in  numbers  so  great  that 
they  are  summed  up  as  comprehending  whole  villages,  towns, 
and  neighborhoods  in  their  benefactions.  They  produced  an  ex- 
citement in  the  public  mind  so  great  that  ofttimes  secrecy  was 
enjoined,  lest  the  Eoman  government  should  interfere. 

That  Christ  should  be  the  centre  and  active  cause  of  such 
stupendous  imposture,  on  the  supposition  that  miracles  were  but 
deceptions,  shocks  the  moral  feeling  of  those  even  who  disbelieve 
his  divinity.  Widely  as  men  differ  on  every  topic  connected  with 
the  Christ,  there  is  one  ground  on  which  all  stand  together, 
namely,  that  Jesus  was  good.  Even  Infidelity  would  feel  be- 
reaved in  the  destruction  of  Christ's  moral  character.  But  to 
save  that,  and  yet  to  explain  away  the  miracles  which  he  wrought, 
has  put  ingenuity  to  ludicrous  shifts. 

Renan,  to  save  the  character  of  his  poetic  hero,  is  obliged  to 
depict  him  as  the  subject  of  an  enthusiasm  which  grew  upon  him 
until  it  became  a  self-deceiving  fanaticism.  It  seems,  then,  that 
the  whole  world  has  been  under  the  influence  of  one  who  was 
not  an  impostor,  only  because  he  was  mildly  insane ! 

That  such  a  conclusion  should  give  no  pain  to  men  utterly  des- 
titute of  religious  aspirations  may  well  be  conceived.  But  all 
others,  looking  upon  this  wanton  and  needless  procedure,  will 
adopt  the  language  of  Mary,  and  say,  "  They  have  taken  away 
my  Lord,  and  I  know  not  where  they  have  laid  him." 


^ 


a- 


^ 


THK    SIIKI'IIERDS     FIELD. 


CHAPTER    II. 


THE  OVERTURE  OF  ANGELS. 


^ 


HAD  it  been  the  design  of  Divine  Pi'ovidence  that  the  Gos- 
])els  .should  be  wrought  u])  like  a  poem  for  hterary  and  ar- 
tistic effect,  surely  the  narrative  of  the  angelic  appearances  would 
have  glowed  in  all  the  colors  of  an  Oriental  morning.  They  are, 
indeed,  to  those  who  have  an  eye  to  discern,  a  wonderful  and  ex- 
quisitely tinted  prelude  to  the  dawn  of  a  glorious  day.  It  is  not 
to  be  supposed  that  the  earth  and  its  dull  inhabitants  knew  what 
was  approaching.  But  heavenly  spirits  knew  it.  There  was 
movement  and  holy  ecstasy  in  the  Upper  Air,  and  angels  seem, 
as  birds  when  new-come  in  sjiring,  to  have  tlown  hither  and 
thither,  in  songful  mood,  dipping  their  white  wings  into  our  a1> 
mosphere,  just  touching  the  earth  or  glancing  along  its  surface, 
as  sea-birds  skim  the  surface  of  the  sea.  And  yet  birds  are  far 
too  rude,  and  wings  too  burdensome,  to  express  adequately  that 
feeling  of  unlabored  angelic  motion  which  the  narrative  produces 
upon  the  imagination.  Their  any  and  gentle  coming  would  per- 
hajis  be  better  compared  to  the  glow  of  colors  flung  by  the  sun 
ujjon  morning  clouds  that  seem  to  be  born  just  where  they  ap- 
pear.    Like  a  beam  of  light  striking  through  some  orifice,  they 


-ff 


[& 


-H-, 


THB  OVERTURE  OF  ANGELS. 


shine  upon  Zacharias  in  the  Temple.  As  the  morning  Hght  finds 
the  flowers,  so  found  they  the  mother  of  Jesus.  To  the  shep- 
herds' eyes  they  filled  the  midnight  arch  like  auroral  beams  of 
light ;  but  not  as  silently,  for  they  sang,  and  more  marvellously 
than  when  "the  morning  stars  sang  together  and  all  the  sons 
of  God  shouted  for  joy." 

The  new  era  opens  at  Jerusalem.  The  pride  with  which  a 
devout  Jew  looked  upon  Jerusalem  can  scarcely  be  imagined 
in  our  prosaic  times.  Men  loved  that  city  with  such  passion- 
ate devotion  as  we  are  accustomed  to  see  bestowed  only  on  a 
living  person.  When  the  doctrine  of  immortality  grew  more 
distinctly  into  the  belief  of  holy  men,  no  name  could  be  found 
which  would  make  the  invisible  world  so  attractive  as  that  of 
the  l)eloved  city.  New  Jerusalem  was  the  chosen  name  for 
Heaven. 

Upon  this  city  broke  the  morning  rays  of  the  Advent.  A 
venerable  priest,  Zacharias,  belonging  to  the  retinue  of  the  Tem- 
ple, had  spent  his  whole  life  in  the  quiet  offices  of  religion.  He 
was  married,  but  childless.    To  him  happened  a  surprising  thing. 

It  was  his  turn  to  burn  incense, 
—  the  most  honorable  function  of 
the  priestly  office.  Upon  the  great 
altar  of  sacrifice,  outside  the  holy 
of  holies,  the  bum1>offering  was 
placed.  At  a  signal  the  priest 
came  forth,  and,  taking  fire  from 
this  altar,  he  entered  the  inner 
and  most  sacred  place  of  the  Tem- 
ple, and  there,  before  the  altar  of 
incense,  putting  the  fragrant  gum 
upon  the  coals,  he  swung  the  cen- 
ser, filling  the  air  with  wreaths  of 
smoke.  The  people  who  had  gath- 
ered on  the  outside,  as  soon  as  the  smoke  ascended  silently  sent 
up  their  prayers,  of  which  the  incense  was  the  symbol.  "  And 
there  appeared  unto  him  an  angel  of  the  Lord,  standing  on  the 
right  side  of  the  altai\" 

That  he  trembled  with  fear  and  awe  is  apparent  from  the 
ano-el's  address, — ^' Fear  not!"     The  key-note   of  the  new  dis- 


HIGH-PRIEST,    WITH    BREASTPLATE. 


^ 


-ff 


a- ^ 

10  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,  THE  CHRIST. 

pensation  was  sounded !  Hereafter,  God  was  to  be  brought 
nearer,  to  seem  less  terrible ;  and  a  religion  of  the  spirit  and  of 
love  was  soon  to  dispossess  a  reUgion  of  ceremonials  and  of 
fear. 

"  Fear  not,  Zacharias :  for  thy  prayer  is  heard  ; 
And  thy  wife  Elisabeth  shall  bear  thee  a  son, 
And  thou  slialt  call  his  name  John. 
And  thou  slialt  liave  joy  and  gladness  ; 
And  many  shall  rejoice  at  his  birth. 
For  he  sliall  be  great  in  the  sight  of  tlie  Lord, 
And  shall  drink  neither  wine  nor  strong  drink ; 

And  he  shall  be  filled  with  the  Holy  Gliost  even  from  his  mother's  womb. 
And  many  of  the  children  of  Israel  shall  lie  turn  to  the  Ivord  their  God. 
And  he  shall  go  before  him  in  the  spirit  and   power  ul'  Klias, 
To  turn  the  hearts  of  the  parents  to  the  children, 
And  the  disobedient  to  the  wisdom  of  the  just; 
To  make  ready  a  people  prepared  for  the  Lord." 

If  this  address,  to  our  modern  ear.s,  seems  stately  and  formal, 
it  is  to  be  remembered  that  no  other  language  would  seem  so  fit 
for  a  heavenly  message  to  a  Jewish  priest  as  that  which  breathed 
the  spirit  of  the  Old  Testament  writings ;  and  that  to  us  it  savors 
of  the  sermon  because  it  has  since  been  so  often  used  for  the 
purposes  of  the  sermon. 

But  the  laws  of  the  material  world  seemed  to  the  doubting 
priest  more  powerful  than  the  promise  of  that  God  who  made  all 
23h3-sical  laws.  To  this  distinct  promise  of  a  son  who  should  be- 
come a  great  reformer,  and  renew  the  jjower  and  grandeur  of 
the  prophetic  office,  he  coidd  only  say,  "  Whereby  shall  I  know 
this  ?  "  His  doubts  should  have  begim  earlier,  or  not  at  all.  He 
'  should  have  rejected  the  whole  vision,  or  should  have  accepted 
the  promise  impUcitly ;  for  what  sign  could  be  given  so  assuring 
as  the  very  presence  of  the  angel  ?  But  the  sign  which  he  asked 
was  given  in  a  way  that  he  could  ncA'er  forget.  His  speech  de- 
parted ;  silence  was  the  sign ;  —  as  if  the  priest  of  the  Old  was  to 
teach  no  more  until  the  coming  of  the  New. 

When  Zacharias  came  forth  to  the  people,  who  were  already 
impatient  at  his  long  delay,  they  perceived  by  his  altered  man- 
ner that  some  great  experience  had  befallen  him.  He  could  not 
speak,  and  could  dismiss  them  only  by  a  gesture. 

We  have  no  certainty  whether  this  scene  occurred  at  a  morn- 
mg  or  an  evening  service,  but  it  is  supposed  to  have  been  at  the 

^ S 


[& 


-a 


THE  OVERTURE  OF  ANGELS.  H 

evening  sacrifice.  In  that  case  the  event  was  an  impressive  sym- 
bol. The  people  beheld  their  priest  standing  against  the  settino- 
smi,  dumb,  while  they  dispersed  in  the  twilight,  the  shadow  of 
the  Temple  having  already  flillen  upon  them.  The  Old  was  pass- 
ing into  darkness;  to-morrow  another  sun  must  rise ! 

Ehsabeth,  the  wife  of  Zacharias,  returned  to  the  '•  hill-coimtry." 
or  that  region  lying  west  and  south  of  Jerusalem.  The  promise 
had  begun  to  be  fulfilled.  All  the  promises  made  to  Israel  were 
pointing  to  their  fulfilment  through  her.  These  promises,  accu- 
mulating through  ages,  were  ample  enough,  even  in  the  letter,  to 
fill  a  devout  soul  with  ardent  expectancy.  But  falling  upon  the 
imagination  of  a  greatly  distressed  people,  they  had  been  mag- 
nified or  refracted  until  the  public  mind  was  filled  with  inordi- 
nate and  even  fantastic  expectations  of  the  Messianic  reign.  It 
is  not  probable  that  any  were  altogether  free  from  this  delusion, 
not  even  the  soberest  and  most  spiritual  natures.  We  can  there- 
fore imagine  but  faintly  the  ecstatic  hopes  of  Zacharias  and  Elis- 
abeth during  the  six  months  in  which  they  were  hidden  in  their 
home  among  the  hills  before  the  history  again  finds  them.  They 
are  next  introduced  through  the  story  of  another  memorable 
actor  m  this  drama,  the  mother  of  our  Loi-d. 

It  is  difficult  to  speak  of  Mary,  the  mother  of  Jesus,  both  be- 
cause so  little  is  known  of  her  and  because  so  much  has  been 
miagined.  Around  no  other  name  in  history  has  the  imagina- 
tion thrown  its  witching  light  in  so  great  a  volume.  In  art  she 
has  divided  honors  with  her  divine  Son.  For  a  thousand  years 
her  name  has  excited  the  profoundest  reverence  and  worship. 
A  mother's  love  and  forbearance  with  her  children,  as  it  is  a  ' 
universal  experience,  so  is  it  the  nearest  image  of  the  divine  ten- 
derness which  the  soul  can  fomi. 

In  attempting  to  present  the  Divine  Being  in  his  relations 
to  universal  government,  men  have  wellnigh  lost  his  personality 
in  a  sublime  abstraction.  Those  traits  of  personal  tenderness 
and  generous  love  which  alone  will  ever  draw  the  human  heart 
to  God,  it  has  too  often  been  obliged  to  seek  elsewhere.  And, 
however  mistaken  the  endeavor  to  find  in  the  Virgin  Mary  the 
sjTnpathy  and  fond  fomiliarity  of  a  divine  fostering  love,  it  is 
an  error  into  which  men  have  been  drawn  by  the  profoimdest 
needs  of  the  human  soul.      It  is  an  error  of  the   heart.      The 


^ 


a- -ft 

12  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,  THE  CHRIST. 

cure  will  be  found  by  revealing,  in  the  Divine  nature,  the  longed- 
for  traits  in  greater  beauty  and  force  than  are  given  them  in  the 
legends  of  the  mother  of  Jesus. 

Meanwhile,  if  the  doctors  of  theology  have  long  hesitated  to 
deify  the  Virgin,  art  has  unconsciously  raised  her  to  the  highest 
place.  There  is  nothing  in  attitude,  expression,  or  motion  which 
has  been  left  untried.  The  earlier  Christian  painters  were  con- 
tent to  express  her  pure  fervor,  without  relying  upon  the  ele- 
ment of  beauty.  But  as,  age  by  age,  imagination  kindled,  the 
canvas  has  given  forth  this  divine  mother  in  more  and  more 
glowing  beauty,  borrowing  from  the  Grecian  spirit  all  that  was 
charming  in  the  highest  ideals  of  Venus,  and  adding  to  them  an 
element  of  transcendent  purity  and  devotion,  which  has  no  par- 
allel in  ancient  art. 

It  i-i  dilhoult  for  one  whose  e^^e  has  been  steeped  in  the  colors 
of  art  to  go  back  from  its  enchantment  to  the  barrenness  of 
actual  history.  By  Luke  alone  is  the  place  even  of  her  residence 
mentioned.  It  is  only  inferred  that  she  was  of  the  royal  house 
of  David.  She  was  already  espoused  to  a  man  named  Joseph, 
but  not  as  yet  married.  This  is  the  sum  of  our  knowledge  of 
Mary  at  the  point  where  her  history  is  introduced.  Legends 
abound,  many  of  them  charming,  but  like  the  innumerable  faces 
which  artists  have  painted,  they  gratify  the  imagination  without 
adding  anything  to  historic  truth. 

The  scene  of  the  Annunciation  will  always  be  admiraljle  in 
literature,  even  to  those  who  are  not  disposed  to  accord  it  any 
historic  value.  To  announce  to  an  espoused  virgin  that  she  Avas 
to  be  the  mother  of  a  child,  out  of  wedlock,  by  the  unconscious 
working  in  her  of  the  Divine  power,  would,  beforehand,  seem  in- 
consistent with  delicacy.  But  no  person  of  poetic  sensibility  can 
read  the  scene  as  it  is  narrated  by  Luke  without  admiring  its 
sublime  purity  and  serenity.  It  is  not  a  transaction  of  the  lower 
world  of  passion.  Things  most  difficult  to  a  lower  sphere  are 
both  easy  and  beautiful  in  that  atmosphere  which,  as  it  were, 
the  angel  brought  down  with  him. 

"  And  the  angel  came  in  unto  her  and  said.  Hail !  thou  that 
art  highly  fovored !     The  Lord  is  with  thee  ! " 

Then  was  announced  the  birth  of  Jesus,  and  that  he  should 
inherit  and  prolong  endlessly  the   glories  promised  to  Israel  of 

^ ^ 


^ 

THE  OVERTURE  OF  ANGELS.  13 

old.      To    her   inquiry,    "  How    shall    this    be  ? "    the    angel    re- 
plied :  — 

"  The  Holy  Ghost  shall  come  upon  thee, 
And  the  power  of  the  Highest  shall  overshadow  thee ; 
Therefore  also  that  holy  thing  which  shall  be  born  of  thee 
ShaU  be  called  the  Son  of  God." 

It  was  also  made  known  to  Mar\'  that  her  consin  Elisabeth 
had  conceived  a  son.  And  Mary  said :  "•  Behold  the  handmaid 
of  the  Lord !     Be  it  unto  me  according  to  thy  word." 

Many  have  brought  to  this  histoiy  the  associations  of  a  later 
day,  of  a  different  civilization,  and  of  habits  of  thought  foreign 
to  the  whole  cast  of  the  Oriental  mind.  Out  of  a  process  so  un- 
philosophical  they  have  evolved  the  most  serious  doubts  and  dif- 
ficulties. But  no  one  is  fitted  to  appreciate  either  the  beauty  or 
the  truthfulness  to  nature  of  such  a  scene,  who  cannot  in  some 
degree  carry  himself  buck  in  sympathy  to  that  Jewish  maiden's 
life.  The  education  of  a  Hebrew  woman  was  far  freer  than 
that  of  women  of  other  Oriental  nations.  She  had  more  per- 
sonal liberty,  a  wider  scope  of  intelligence,  than  obtained  among 
the  Greeks  or  even  among  the  Romans.  But  above  all,  she  re- 
ceived a  moral  education  which  placed  her  high  above  her  si.s- 
ters  in  other  lands. 

It  is  plain  that  Mary  was  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  the  He- 
brew Scriptures.  Not  only  was  the  history  of  her  people  familiar 
to  her,  but  her  language  shows  that  the  poetry  of  the  Old  Tes- 
tament had  filled  her  soul.  She  was  fitted  to  receive  her  peo- 
ple's history  in  its  most  romantic  and  spiritual  aspects.  They 
were  God's  peculiar  people.  Their  history  unrolled  before  her 
as  a  series  of  wonderful  providences.  The  path  glowed  with 
divine  manifestations.  Miracles  blossomed  out  of  every  natural 
law.  But  to  her  there  were  no  laws  of  nature.  Such  ideas  had 
not  yet  been  born.  The  earth  was  "the  Lord's."  All  its  phe- 
nomena were  direct  manifestations  of  his  wiU.  Clouds  and  stonns 
came  on  errands  from  God.  Light  and  darkness  were  the  shin- 
ing or  the  hiding  of  his  fiice.  Calamities  Avere  punishments.  Har- 
vests were  divine  gifts;  famines  were  immediate  divine  penalties. 
To  us  God  acts  through  instruments;  to  the  Hebrew  he  acted 
inmaediately  by  his  will.  "He  spake,  and  it  was  done;  he  com- 
manded, and  it  stood  fast." 

cfe- ^ 


a- -a 

14  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,  THE  CHRIST. 

To  such  a  one  as  Mary  there  would  be  no  incredulity  as  to 
the  reality  of  this  angelic  manifestation.  Her  only  surjjrise  would 
1)6  that  she  should  be  chosen  for  a  renewal  of  those  divine  inter- 
positions in  behalf  of  her  people  of  which  their  history  was  so 
full.  The  very  reason  which  would  lead  us  to  suspect  a  miracle 
in  our  day  gave  it  credibility  in  other  days.  It  is  simply  a  ques- 
tion of  adaptation.  A  miracle  as  a  blind  appeal  to  the  moral 
sense,  without  the  use  of  the  reason,  was  adapted  to  the  earlier 
periods  of  human  life.  Its  usefulness  ceases  when  the  moral 
sense  is  so  developed  that  it  can  find  its  own  way  through  the 
ministration  of  the  reason.  A  miracle  is  a  substitute  for  moral 
demonstration,  and  is  peculiarly  adapted  to  the  early  conditions 
of  mankind. 

Of  all  miracles,  there  was  none  more  sacred,  congruous,  and 
grateful  to  a  IIe))rew  than  an  angelic  visitation.  A  devout  Jew, 
in  looking  back,  saw  angels  flying  thick  between  the  heavenly 
throne  and  the  throne  of  his  fathers.  The  greatest  events  of 
national  history  had  been  made  illustrious  by  their  presence. 
Their  work  began  with  the  primitive  pair.  They  had  come  at 
evening  to  Abraham's  tent.  They  had  Avaited  upon  Jacolj's  foot- 
steps. They  had  communed  with  Moses,  with  the  judges,  with 
priests  and  magistrates,  with  prophets  and  holy  men.  All  the 
way  down  from  the  beginning  of  history,  the  pious  Jew  saw 
the  shinmg  footsteps  of  these  heavenly  messengers.  Nor  had 
the  faith  died  out  in  the  long  interval  through  which  their  visits 
had  been  withheld.  Mary  could  not,  therefore,  be  surj^rised  at 
the  coming  of  angels,  but  only  that  they  should  come  to  her. 

It  may  seem  strange  that  Zacharias  should  be  struck  dumb  for 
doubting  the  heavenly  messenger,  while  Mary  went  unrelniked. 
But  it  is  plain  that  thei-e  was  a  wide  difference  m  the  nature 
of  the  relative  experiences.  To  Zacharias  was  promised  an  event 
external  to  himself,  not  involving  his  own  sensibility.  But  to  a 
woman's  heart  there  can  be  no  other  announcement  possible  that 
shall  so  stir  every  feeling  and  sensibility  of  the  soul,  as  the  prom- 
ise and  prospect  of  her  first  child.  Motherhood  is  the  very  cen- 
tre of  womanhood.  The  first  awaking  in  her  soul  of  the  reality 
that  she  bears  a  double  life  —  herself  within  herself — brings  a 
sweet  bewilderment  of  wonder  and  joy.  The  more  sure  her 
faith  of  the  fact,  the  more   tremulous  must  her  soul  become. 

eg J 


^ -ft 

THE  OVERTURE  OF  ANGELS.  15 

Such  an  announcement  can  never  mean  to  a  father's  what  it 
does  to  a  mothei-'s  heart.  And  it  is  one  of  the  exquisite  shades 
of  subtle  truth,  and  of  laeauty  as  well,  that  the  angel  who  re- 
buked Zacharias  for  doubt  saw  nothing  in  the  trembling  hesi- 
tancy and  wonder  of  Mary  inconsistent  with  a  childlike  faith. 

K  the  heart  swells  with  the  hope  of  a  new  life  in  the  common 
lot  of  mortals,  with  what  profound  feeling  must  Mary  have  pon- 
dered the  angel's  promise  to  her  son  ! 

"  He  shall  be  great,  and  shall  be  called  the  Son  of  the  Highest ; 
Anil  the  Lord  God  shall  give  him  the  throne  of  his  father  David ; 
And  he  shall  reign  over  the  house  of  Jacob  tbrever, 
And  of  his  kingdom  there  shall  be  no  end." 

It  is  exjDressly  stated  that  Joseph  was  of  the  "  house  of  David," 
but  there  is  no  evidence  that  Mary  was  of  the  same,  excej^t  this 
implication,  "  The  Lord  God  shall  give  him  the  throne  of  his 
fiither  David."  Since  Joseph  was  not  his  father,  it  could  only 
be  through  his  mother  that  he  could  trace  his  lineage  to  David. 

There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  Mary  was  more  enlightr 
ened  than  those  among  whom  she  dwelt,  or  that  she  gave  to 
these  words  that  spiritual  sense  in  which  alone  they  have  proved 
true.  To  her,  it  may  be  su^iposed,  thei"e  arose  a  vague  idea  that 
her  son  was  destined  to  be  an  eminent  teacher  and  deliverer. 
She  would  naturally  go  back  in  her  mind  to  the  instances,  in 
the  history  of  her  own  people,  of  eminent  men  and  women 
who  had  been  raised  up  in  dark  times  to  deliver  their  people. 

She  lived  in  the  very  region  which  Deborah  and  Barak  had 
made  famous.  Almost  before  her  eyes  lay  the  plains  on  which 
great  deliverances  had  been  wrought  by  heroes  raised  up  by  the 
God  of  Israel.  But  that  other  glory,  of  spiritual  deliverance,  was 
hidden  from  her.  Or,  if  that  influence  which  overshadowed  her 
awakened  in  her  the  spiritual  vision,  it  was  doubtless  to  reveal 
that  her  son  was  to  be  something  more  than  a  mere  worldly 
conqueror.  But  it  was  not  for  her  to  discern  the  glorious  real- 
ity. It  hung  in  the  future  as  a  dim  brightness,  whose  partic- 
ular form  and  substance  could  not  be  discerned.  For  it  is  not 
to  be  supposed  that  Mary  —  prophet  as  every  woman  is  —  could 
discern  that  spiritual  truth  of  the  promises  of  the  Old  Testament 
which  his  OAvn  disciples  did  not  understand  after  companying 
with  Jesus  for  three  years,  nor  yet  after  his  ascension,  nor  until 

^ ^ 


-a 


IG 


THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,  THE  CHRIST. 


the   fire   of  the  pcntecostal   day  had   kindled  in  them  the  ej-e 
of  flame  that  pierces  all  things  and  discerns  the  spirit. 


"And  Mary  aro>5e  in  those  days,  and  went  into  the  hill-conn- 
try  with  haste,  into  a  city  of  Juda.  and  entered  into  the  house  of 
Zacharias  and  saluted  Elisabeth." 

The  overshadowing  Spirit  had  breathed  upon  her  the  new 
life.  What  woman  of  deep  soul  was  ever  unthrilled  at  the  mys- 
tery of  life  beating  Avithin  life  ?  And  what  Jewish  woman,  de- 
voutly believing  that  in  her  child  were  to  be  fulfilled  the  hopes 
of  Israel,  could  hold  this  faith  without  excitement  almost  too 
great  to  be  borne  ?  She  could  not  iaxvy.  With  haste  she  trod 
that  way  which  she  had  doubtless  often  trod  before  in  her  an- 
nual ascent  to  the  Temple.  Every  village,  every  brook,  every 
hill,  must  have  awakened  in  her  some  sad  recollection  of  the 
olden  days  of  her  people.  There  was  Tabor,  from  wliich  came 
down  Bai'ak  and  his  men.  And  in  the  great  plain  of  Esdraelon 
he  fought  Sisera.  The  waters  of  Kishon,  murmuring  at  her  feet, 
must  have  recalled  the  song  of  Deborah.  Here,  too,  Josiah  was 
slain  at  Megiddo,  and  "  the  mourning  of  Hadad-Rimmon  in  the 
valley  of  Megiddon  "  became  the  by-word  of  grief  Mount  Gil- 
boa  rose  upon  her  from  the  east.  Ebal  and  Gerizim  stood  forth 
in  remembrance  of  the  sublime  drama  of  blessings  and  cursings. 
Then  came  Shechem,  the  paradise  of  Palestine,  in  whose  neigh- 
borhood Joseph  was  buried.  This  pilgrim  may  have  quenched  her 
thirst  at  noonday,  as  afterwards  her  son  did,  at  the  well  of  Jacob; 
and  farther  to  the  south  it  might  be  that  the  oak  of  Mamre, 
under  which  the  pati'iarch  dwelt,  cast  its  great  sliadow  upon  her. 


-ff 


^ ^ ^ 

TIfE   OVERTURE   OF  ANGELS.  17 

It  is  plain  from  tlie  song  of  Alaiy,  of  which  wo  shall  speak  in 
a  moment,  that  she  bore  in  mind  the  history  of  the  mother  of 
Samuel,  wife  of  Elkanah,  who  dwelt  in  this  region,  and  whose 
song,  at  the  presentation  of  Samuel  to  the  priest  at  Shiloh,  seems 
to  have  been  the  mould  in  which  Mary  unconsciously  cast  her 
own. 

Thus,  one  after  another,  Mary  must  have  passed  the  most 
memorable  spots  in  her  people's  history.  Even  if  not  sensitive 
to  patriotic  influences,  —  still  more  if  she  was  alive  to  such  sacred 
and  poetic  associations,  —  she  must  have  come  to  her  relative 
Elisabeth  with  flaming  heart. 

Well  she  might !  What  other  mystery  in  human  life  is  so 
profound  as  the  beginning  of  life  ?  From  the  earliest  days  wo- 
men have  called  themselves  blessed  of  God  when  life  begins  to 
palpitate  within  their  bosom.  It  is  not  education,  but  nature, 
that  inspires  such  tender  amazement.  Doubtless  even  the  In- 
dian woman  in  such  periods  dwells  consciously  near  to  the  Great 
Spirit!  Every  one  of  a  deep  nature  seems  to  herself  more  sa- 
cred and  more  especially  under  the  divine  care  while  a  new  life, 
moulded  by  the  divine  hand,  is  springing  into  being.  For,  of 
all  creative  acts,  none  is  so  sovereign  and  divine.  Who  shall 
reveal  the  endless  musings,  the  perpetual  prophecies,  of  the 
mother's  soul  ?  Her  thoughts  dwell  upon  the  unknown  child, 
—  thoughts  more  in  number  than  the  ripples  of  the  sea  upon 
some  undiscovered  shore.  To  others,  in  such  hours,  woman 
should  seem  more  sacred  than  the  most  solemn  temple ;  and 
to  herself  she  must  needs  seem  as  if  overshadowed  by  the 
Holy  Ghost! 

To  this  natural  elevation  were  added,  in  the  instance  of  Mary 
and  Elisabeth,  those  vague  but  exalted  expectations  arising  from 
the  angelic  annunciations.  Both  of  them  believed  that  the  whole 
future  condition  of  their  nation  was  to  be  intimately  aflected  by 
the  lives  of  their  sons. 

And  Mary  said  :  — 

"  My  soul  doth  magnify  the  Lord, 
And  my  spirit  hath  rejoiced  in  God  my  Saviour. 
For  he  Iiatli  regarded  the  low  estate  of  his  handmaiden  ; 
For,  behold,  from  henceforth  all  generations  shall  call  me  blessed. 
For  He  that  is  mighty  hath  done  to  me  great  things  ; 
And  holy  is  his  name. 

^ ^ 


^ -^ 

18  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE  CHRIST. 

Aiul  liis  mercy  is  on  them  that  fear  him 

From  generation  to  generation. 

He  hath  shewed  strength  witli  his  arm  ; 

He  hatli  scattered  tlie  proud  in  tlie  imagination  of"  tlieir  hearts. 

He  hath  put  down  the  mighty  fi'om  their  seats, 

And  e.valted  tlieni  of  low  degree. 

He  hath  fdled  the  Imngry  with  good  things ; 

And  the  rich  he  liath  sent  empty  away. 

He  hatli  holpeu  liis  servant  Israel, 

In  remembrance  of  his  mercy  ; 

As  he  spake  to  our  liithers, 

To  Abraham,  and  to  his  seed  forever." 

Unsympathizing  critics  remark  upon  the  similarity  of  this 
chant  of  Mary's  with  the  song  of  Hannah,^  the  mother  of  Sam- 
uel.    Inspiration  served  to  kindle  the  materials  already  in  jdos- 

'  "  My  heart  rejoiceth  in  the  Lord ; 
My  horn  is  exalted  in  the  Lord ; 
My  mouth  is  enlarged  over  mine  enemies ; 
Because  I  rejoice  in  thy  salvation. 
There  is  none  holy  as  the  Lord ; 
For  there  is  none  beside  thee  ; 
Neither  is  there  any  rock  like  our  God. 
Talk  no  more  so  exceeding  proudly  : 
Let  not  arrogancy  come  out  of  your  moutli : 
For  the  Lord  is  a  God  of  knowledge. 
And  by  him  actions  are  weighed. 
The  bows  of  the  mighty  men  are  broken, 
And  they  that  stumbled  are  girded  with  strength. 
They  that  were  full  have  hired  out  themselves  tor  bread  ; 
And  they  that  were  hungry  ceased ; 
So  that  the  barren  hath  borne  seven ; 
And  she  that  hath  many  children  is  waxed  feeble. 
The  Lord  killeth,  and  maketh  alive  : 
He  bringeth  down  to  the  grave,  and  bringeth  up. 
The  Lord  maketh  poor,  and  maketh  rich : 
He  bringeth  low,  and  lifteth  up. 
He  raiseth  up  the  poor  out  of  the  dust, 
And  lifteth  up  the  beggar  from  the  dunghill. 
To  set  them  among  princes, 
And  to  make  them  inherit  the  throne  of  glory : 
For  the  pillars  of  the  earth  are  the  Lord's, 
And  he  hath  set  the  world  upon  them. 
He  will  keep  the  feet  of  his  saints. 
And  the  wicked  shall  be  silent  in  darkness : 
For  by  strength  shall  no  man  prevail. 
The  adversaries  of  the  Lord  shall  be  broken  to  pieces ; 
Out  of  heaven  shall  he  thunder  upon  them  : 
The  Lord  shall  judge  the  ends  of  the  earth ; 
And  he  shall  give  strength  unto  his  King, 
And  exalt  the  horn  of  his  Anointed." 

^ ^ 


'P- -ii 

TJIE   OVERTURE    OF  ANGELS.  19 

session  of  the  mind.  This  Hebrew  maiden  had  stored  her  im- 
agination with  the  poetic  elements  of  the  Okl  Testament.  But, 
of  all  the  treasures  at  command,  only  a  devout  and  grateful  na- 
ture would  have  made  so  unselfish  a  selection.  For  it  is  not 
upon  her  own  blessedness  that  Mary  chiefly  dwells,  but  upon 
the  sovereignty,  the  goodnes.s,  and  the  glory  of  God.  To  be 
exalted  by  the  joy  of  our  personal  prosperity  above  self-con- 
sciousness into  the  atmosphere  of  thanksgiving  and  adoration, 
is  a  sure  sign  of  nobility  of  soul. 

For  thi-ee  months  these  sweet  and  noble  women  dwelt  to- 
gether, performing,  doubtless,  the  sunple  labors  of  the  house- 
hold. Their  thoughts,  their  converse,  their  employments,  must 
be  left  wholly  to  the  imagination.  And  yet,  it  is  impossible 
not  to  be  curious  in  regard  to  these  hidden  days  of  Juda\a, 
when  the  mother  of  our  Lord  was  already  fashioning  that  sa- 
cred form  which,  in  due  time,  not  far  from  her  residence,  per- 
haps within  the  very  sight  of  it,  was  to  be  hfted  up  upon  the 
cross.  But  it  is  a  research  which  we  have  no  means  of  pur- 
suing. Her  thoughts  must  be  impossible  to  us,  as  our  thoughts 
of  her  son  were  impossible  to  her.  No  one  can  look  forwai'd, 
even  in  the  spirit  of  prophecy,  to  see  after-things  in  all  their 
fulness  as  they  shall  be  ;  nor  can  one  who  has  known  go  back 
again  to  see  as  if  he  had  not  known. 

After  Mary's  return  to  Nazareth,  Elisabeth  was  delivered  of 
a  son.  Following  the  custom  of  their  people,  her  friends  would 
have  named  him  after  his  ftither,  but  the  mother,  mindful  of  the 
name  given  by  the  angel,  called  him  John.  An  appeal  was  made 
to  the  priest — Avho  probabl}^  was  deaf  as  well  as  dumb,  for  they 
made  signs  to  him  —  how  the  child  should  be  named.  Calling 
for  writing-materials,  he  surprised  them  all  by  naming  him  as 
his  wife  had,  —  John.  At  once  the  sign  ceased.  His  lips  were 
unsealed,  and  he  broke  forth  into  thanksgiving  and  praise.  All 
the  cii'cumstances  conspired  to  awaken  wonder  and  to  spread 
throughout  the  neighborhood  mysterious  expectations,  men  say- 
ing, "  What  manner  of  child  shall  this  be  ? " 

The  first  chapter  of  Luke  may  be  considered  as  the  last  leaf 
of  the  Old  Testament,  so  saturated  is  it  with  the  heart  and 
spirit  of  the  olden  times.  And  the  song  of  Zacharias  clearly 
reveals  the  state  of  feeling  among  the  best  Jews  of  that  day. 

tfr- ^ 


20  THE   LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE  CHRIST. 

Their  nation  was  grievously  ^'I'^'^^'^cd  down  by  foreign  despotism. 
Their  people  were  scattered  through  the  woi'ld.  The  time  was 
exceedingly  dark,  and  the  promises  of  the  old  prophets  served 
by  contrast  to  make  their  present  distress  yet  darker.  We  are 
not  surprised,  therefore,  to  find  the  first  portion  of  Zacharias's 
chant  sensitively  recognizing  the  degradations  and  suflerings  of 
his  people  :  — 

"  Blessed  be  the  Lord  God  of  Israel ; 
For  he  hath  visited  and  redeemed  his  people, 
And  hath  raised  up  an  horn  of  salvation  for  us 
In  the  house  of  his  servant  David 
(As  he  spake  by  the  mouth  of  his  holy  prophets, 
Which  have  been  since  the  world  bcrjan)  ; 
That  we  should  be  saved  from  our  enemies, 
And  from  the  hand  of  all  that  hate  us  ; 
To  perform  the  mercy  promised  to  our  fathers, 
And  to  remember  his  holy  covenant. 
The  oath  which  he  sware  to  our  father  Abraham, 
That  he  would  grant  unto  us. 

That  we  being  delivereil  out  of  the  hand  of  our  enemies 
Might  serve  him  without  fear, 
In  holiness  and  righteousness  before  him. 
All  the  days  of  our  life." 

Then,  as  if  seized  with  a  spirit  of  prophecy,  and  beholding  the 
relations  and  offices  of  his  son,  in  language  as  poetically  beautiful 
as  it  is  spiritually  triumphant  he  exclaims :  — 

"  And  thou,  child,  shalt  be  called  the  prophet  of  the  Highest : 
For  tliou  shalt  go  before  the  face  of  the  Lord  to  prepare  his  ways ; 
To  give  knowledge  of  salvation  unto  his  people 
By  the  remission  of  their  sins. 
Through  the  tender  mercy  of  our  God  ; 
Whereby  the  day-spring  fi-om  on  liigh  hath  vi>ited  us, 
To  give  light  to  them  that  sit  in  darkness  and  in  the  shadow  of  death, 
To  guide  our  feet  into  the  way  of  peace." 

Even  in  his  childhood  John  manifested  that  fulness  of  nature 
and  that  earnestness  which  afterwards  fitted  him  for  his  mission. 
He  "waxed  strong  in  spii-it."  He  did  not  mingle  in  the  ordi- 
nary pursuits  of  men.  As  one  who  bears  a  sensitive  conscience 
and  refuses  to  mingle  in  the  throng  of  men  of  low  morality,  he 
stood  apart  and  was  solitary.  He  "was  in  the  deserts  until  the 
day  of  his  showing  unto  Israel." 

Mary  had  retiu-ned  to  Nazareth.  Although  Joseph,  to  whom 
she   was  betrothed,  was   descended   from   David,   every   sign   of 

^ ^ 


^ a 

THE  OVERTURE  OF  ANGELS.  21 

royalty  had  died  out.  He  earned  his  hvehhood  by  working  in 
wood,  probably  as  a  carpenter,  though  the  word  applied  to°hi,s 
trade  admits  of  much  larger  application.  Tradition  has  uni- 
formly represented  him  as  a  carpenter,  and  art  has  conformed 
to  tradition.  He  appears  but  on  the  threshold  of  the  history. 
He  goes  to  Egypt,  returns  to  Nazareth,  and  is  fointly  recognized 
as  present  Avhen  Jesus  was  twelve  years  of  age.  But  nothino- 
more  is  heard  of  him.  If  alive  when  his  reputed  son  entered 
upon  public  ministry,  there  is  no  sign  of  it.  And  as  Mary  is 
often  mentioned  in  the  history  of  the  Lord's  mission,  it  is  proba- 
ble that  Joseph  died  before  Jesus  entered  upon  his  public  life. 
He  is  called  a  just  man,  and  we  know  that  he  was  humane.  For 
when  he  perceived  the  condition  of  his  betrothed  wife,  instead 
of  pressing  to  its  full  rigor  the  Jewish  law  against  her,  he  meant 
quietly  and  without  harm  to  set  her  aside.  When  in  a  vision 
he  learned  the  truth,  he  took  Mary  as  his  wife. 

In  the  thousand  pictures  of  the  Holy  Family,  Joseph  is  repre- 
sented as  a  venerable  man,  standing  a  little  apart,  lost  in  contem- 
plation, while  Mary  and  Elisaljeth  caress  the  child  Jesus.  In  this 
respect,  Christian  art  has,  it  is  probable,  rightly  represented  the 
character  of  Joseph.  He  was  but  a  shadow  on  the  canvas.  Such 
men  are  found  in  everj^  community,  —  gentle,  blameless,  mildly 
active,  but  exerting  no  positive  influence.  Except  in  one  or  two 
vague  implications,  he  early  disappeai's  from  sight.  No  mention 
is  made  of  his  death,  though  he  must  have  deceased  long  before 
Mar}^,  who  in  all  our  Lord's  ministry  appears  alone.  He  reap- 
pears in  the  ecclesiastical  calendar  as  St.  Joseph,  simjily  because 
he  was  the  husband  of  Mary,  —  a  harmless  saint,  mild  and  silent. 
An  imperial  order  having  issued  for  the  taxing  of  the  whole 
nation,  it  became  necessary  for  every  one,  according  to  the  cus- 
tom of  the  Jews,  to  repair-  to  the  city  where  he  belonged,  for 
registration.^ 

'  It  is  needless  to  consider  the  difficulty  to  wliicli  this  p.assag:o  has  given  rise.  Josephus 
states  that  Quirinius  (Cyrenius)  became  governor  of  Judipa  after  the  death  of  Archelaus, 
Herod's  son  and  heir,  and  so  some  eight  or  ten  years  after  the  birth  of  Christ.  How 
then  could  that  taxing  have  brought  Joseph  from  ICazarcth  to  Bethlehem  ?  The  im- 
mense ingenuity  which  has  been  employed  to  solve  this  dilliculty  will  scarcely  add  to 
the  v.ahie  of  hypothetical  historical  reasoning.  Especially  when  now,  at  length,  it  is  as- 
certained upon  grounds  almost  certain,  that  Quirinius  was  twice  governor  of  Syria.  See 
SchalF's  note  to  Langc's  Com.  (Luke,  pp.  32,  33),  and  the  more  full  discussion  in  Smith's 
Bihte  Dictionary,  Art.  "  Cyrenius." 


4 


■ff 


^ ■ -^ 

22  yV/A'  LIFE  OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

From  Nazareth  to  Bethlehem  was  about  eighty  miles.  Trav- 
elling slowly,  as  the  condition  of  Mary  required,  they  would  prob- 
ably occupy  about  four  days  in  reaching  their  destination.  Al- 
ready the  place  was  crowded  with  others  brought  thither  on  the 
same  errand.  They  pr()bal)ly  sought  shelter  in  a  cottage,  for 
"the  inn  was  full,"  and  there  Mary  gave  birth  to  her  child. 

It  is  said  by  Luke  that  the  child  was  laid  in  a  manger,  from 
which  it  has  been  inferred  that  his  parents  had  taken  refuge  in 
a  stable.  But  tradition  asserts  that  it  was  a  cave,  such  as  abound 
in  the  limestone  rock  of  that  region,  and  are  used  both  for  shel- 
tering herds  and,  sometimes,  for  human  residences.  The  precij)- 
itous  sides  of  the  rock  are  often  pierced  in  such  a  way  that  a 
cottage  built  near  might  easily  convert  an  adjoining  cave  to  the 
uses  of  an  outbuilding. 

Caves  are  not  rare  in  Palestine,  as  with  us.  On  the  contrary, 
the  whole  land  seems  to  be  honeycojuljed  with  them.  They  are, 
and  have  been  for  ages,  used  for  almost  every  purpose  which 
architecture  supplies  in  other  lands,  —  as  dwellings  for  the  living 
and  sepulchres  for  the  dead,  as  shelter  for  the  household  and  for 
cattle  and  herds,  as  hidden  retreats  for  ix>l)l)ers,  and  as  defensive 
positions  or  rock-castles  for  soldiers.  Travellers  make  them  a 
refuge  when  no  better  inn  is  at  hand.  They  are  shaped  into 
reservoii's  for  water,  or,  if  dr}^  they  are  employed  as  granaries. 
The  limestone  of  the  region  is  so  porous  and  soft,  that  but  a 
little  labor  is  required  to  enlarge,  refashion,  and  adajit  caves  to 
any  desirable  piu'pose. 

Of  the  "  manger,"  or  "  crib,"  Thomson,  long  a  missionary  in  Pal- 
estine, says :  "  It  is  common  to  find  two  sides  of  the  one  room, 
where  the  native  farmer  resides  with  his  cattle,  fitted  up  with 
these  mangers,  and  the  remainder  elevated  about  two  feet  higher 
for  the  accommodation  of  the  family.  The  mangers  are  built  of 
small  stones  and  mortar,  in  the  shape  of  a  box,  or,  rather,  of  a 
kneading-trough,  and  Avhen  cleaned  ujJ  and  whitewashed,  as  they 
often  are  in  summer,  they  do  very  well  to  lay  little  babes  in. 
Indeed,  our  own  children  have  slept  there  in  our  rude  summer 
retreats  on  the  mountains."^ 

The  laying  of  the  little  babe  in  the  manger  is  not  to  be  re- 
garded then  as  an  extraoi'dinary  thing,  or  a  positive  hardship. 

'  Thomson's  Tfie  Land  and  the  Hook;  Vol.  II.  p.  98. 


^ ft 

THE  OVERTURE  OF  ANGELS.  23 

It  was  merely  subjecting  the  child  to  a  custom  which  peasants 
frequently  practised  with  their  children.  Jesus  began  his  life 
with  and  as  the  lowest. 

About  five  miles  south  of  Jerusalem,  and  crowning  the  top 
and  sides  of  a  narrow  ridge  or  spur  which  shoots  out  eastwardly 
from  the  central  mass  of  the  Judasan  hills,  was  the  village  of 
Bethlehem.  On  every  side  but  the  western,  the  hill  breaks 
down  abruptly  into  deep  valleys.  The  steep  slopes  were  ter- 
raced and  cultivated  from  top  to  bottom.  A  little  to  the  east- 
ward is  a  kind  of  plain,  where  it  is  supposed  the  shepherds,  of 
all  shepherds  that  ever  lived  now  the  most  famous,  tended  their 
flocks.  The  great  fruitfulness  of  its  fields  is  supposed  to  have 
given  to  Bethlehem  its  name,  which  signifies  the  "  House  of 
Bread."  Famous  as  it  has  become,  it  was  but  a  hamlet  at  the 
birth  of  Jesus.  Here  King  David  was  born,  but  there  is  nothing 
to  indicate  that  he  retained  any  special  attachment  to  the  place. 
In  the  rugged  valleys  and  gorges  which  abound  on  every  side, 
he  had  watched  his  father's  flocks  and  had  become  inui'ed  to 
danger  and  to  toil,  defending  his  charge  on  the  one  hand  against 
wild  beasts,  and  on  the  other  against  the  scarcely  less  savage 
predatory  tribes  that  infested  the  region  south  and  east.  From 
Bethlehem  one  may  look  out  upon  the  very  fields  made  beauti- 
ful forever  to  the  imagination  by  the  charming  idyl  of  David's 
ancesti'ess,  Ruth  the  Moabitess.  Changed  as  Bethlehem  itself  is, 
which,  from  holding  a  mere  handful  then,  has  a  population  now 
of  some  four  thousand,  customs  and  the  face  of  nature  remain 
the  same.  The  hills  are  terraced,  the  fields  are  tilled,  flocks  are 
tended  by  laborers  unchanged  in  garb,  working  with  the  same 
kinds  of  implements,  having  the  same  manners,  and  employing 
the  same  salutations  as  in  the  days  of  the  patriarchs. 

Were  Boaz  to  return  to-day,  he  would  hardly  see  an  unfa- 
mihar  thing  in  his  old  fields,  —  the  barley  harvest,  the  reapers, 
the  gleaners,  the  threshing-floors,  and  the  rude  threshing,  —  all 
are  there  as  they  were  thousands  of  years  ago. 

At  the  season  of  our  Saviour's  advent,  the  nights  were  soft 
and  genial.^     It  was  no  hardship  for  rugged  shepherds  to  spend 

'  This  is  true,  wliicliever  liato  shall  be  selected  of  the  many  which  have  been  ui-freil  by 
diirerent  learned  men.  But  further  than  this  there  is  no  certainty.  "In  the  primitive 
Church  there  was  no  agreement  as  to  the  time  of  Christ's  birth.     In  tlic  East  the  Gth  of 

^ -& 


[&- -^ 

24  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

the  night  in  the  fields  with  their  flocks.  By  cluj,  as  the  sheep 
fed,  their  keepers  might  while  away  their  time  with  sights  and 
somids  along  the  earth.  When  darkness  shut  in  the  scene,  the 
heavens  would  naturally  attract  their  attention.  Their  eyes  had 
so  long  kept  company  with  the  mysterious  stars,  that,  doubtless, 
like  shepherds  of  more  ancient  times,  they  were  rude  astrono- 
mers, and  had  grown  familiar  with  the  planets,  and  knew  them 
in  all  their  courses.  But  there  came  to  them  a  night  surpass- 
ing all  nights  in  wondere.  Of  a  sudden  the  whole  heavens  were 
filled  with  light,  as  if  morning  were  come  upon  midnight.  Out  of 
this  splendor  a  single  voice  issued,  as  of  a  choral  leader, — "Be- 
hold, I  bring  you  glad  tidings  of  great  joy."  The  shepherds  were 
told  of  the  Savioui''s  birth,  and  of  the  place  where  the  babe  might 
be  found.  Then  no  longer  a  single  voice,  but  a  host  in  heaven, 
Avas  heard  celebrating  the  event.  "Suddenly  there  was  with  the 
angel  a  multitude  of  the  heavenly  host,  praising  God,  and  saying, 

"  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest, 
And  on  earth  peace  good- will  toward  men." 

Eaised  to  a  fervor  of  wonder,  these  children  of  the  field  made 
haste  to  find  the  babe,  and  to  make  known  on  every  side  the 
marvellous  vision.  Moved  by  this  foith  to  worship  and  to  glorify 
God,  they  were  thus  unconsciously  the  earliest  disciples  and  the 
first  evangelists,  for  "  they  made  known  abroad  the  saying  which 
was  told  them  concerning  this  child." 

In  beautiful  contrast  with  these  rude  exclamatory  worshippers, 
the  mother  is  described  as  silent  and  thoughtful.     "  Mary  kept 

January  was  observed  as  the  day  of  his  baptism  and  birth.  In  the  third  century,  as 
Clement  of  Alexandria  relates,  some  regarded  tlie  20th  of  May,  others  the  20th  of  April, 
as  the  birthilay  of  our  Saviour.  Among  modern  chronologists  and  biographers  of  Jesus 
there  is  still  greater  difference  of  opinion,  and  every  month  —  even  June  and  July  (when 
the  fields  are  parched  from  want  of  rain)  — has  been  named  as  the  time  when  the  great 
event  took  place.  Lightfoot  assigns  the  Nativity  to  September  Lardner  ami  Newcome  to 
October,  Wleseler  to  February,  Paulus  to  IMarch,  Greswell  and  Altera  to  the  5th  of  April, 
just  afler  tlie  spring  rains,  wlien  there  is  an  abundance  of  pasture;  Lichtenstein  places  it 
in  July  or  December,  Strong  in  August,  Robinson  in  autumn.  Clinton  in  spring,  Andrews 
between  the  middle  of  December,  749,  and  the  middle  of  January,  7.")0,  A.  U.  C.  On  the 
other  liand,  Roman  Catholic  historians  and  biographers  of  Jesus,  as  Lepp,  Friedlieb, 
Bucher,  Patritius,  and  also  some  Protestant  writers,  defend  the  popular  tradition,  —  the 
25th  of  December.  Wordsworth  gives  up  the  problem,  and  thinks  that  the  Holy  Spirit 
has  concealed  the  knowledge  of  the  year  and  day  of  Christ's  birtli  and  the  duration  of  his 
ministry  from  the  wise  and  ])rudent,  to  teacli  them  humility."  —  Dr.  Schatf,  in  Lange's 
Commenlarji  (Luke,  p.  3C). 


-a 


0- z 

THE   OVERTUliE   OF  ANGELS.  25 

all  these  things  and  pondered  them  in  her  heart."  If  no  woman 
comes  to  herself  until  she  loves,  so,  it  may  be  said,  she  knows 
not  how  to  love  until  her  firs<>born  is  in  her  arms.  Sad  is  it 
for  her  who  does  not  feel  herself  made  sacred  by  motherhood. 
That  heart-pondering!  Who  may  tell  the  thoughts  which  rise 
from  the  deep  places  of  an  inspired  love,  more  m  number  and 
more  beautifid  than  the  particles  of  vapor  which  the  sun  draws 
from  the  surface  of  the  sea  ? 

Intimately  as  a  mother  must  feel  that  her  babe  is  connected 
with  her  OAvn  body,  even  more  she  is  wont  to  feel  that  her  child 
comes  direct  from  God.  God-cjivcn  is  a  familiar  name  in  every 
language.  Not  from  her  Lord  came  this  child  to  Mary.  It  was 
her  Lord  himself  that  came. 

A  sweet  and  trusting  faith  in  God,  childlike  simplicity,  and 
profound  love  seem  to  have  formed  the  nature  of  Mary.  She 
may  be  accepted  as  the  type  of  Christian  motherhood.  In  this 
view,  and  excluding  the  dogma  of  her  immaculate  nature,  and 
still  more  emphatically  that  of  any  other  participation  in  divin- 
ity than  that  Avhich  is  common  to  all,  we  may  receive  with 
pleasure  the  stores  of  exquisite  pictures  with  which  Christian 
art  has  filled  its  realm.  The  "  Madonnas "  are  so  many  tributes 
to  the  beauty  and  dignity  of  motherhood  ;  and  they  may  stand 
so  interpreted,  now  that  the  superstitious  associations  which  they 
have  had  are  so  wholly  worn  away.  At  any  rate,  the  Protestant 
reaction  from  Mary  has  gone  far  enough,  and,  on  our  own 
grounds,  we  may  well  have  our  share  also  in  the  memory  of 
this  sweet  and  noble  woman. 

The  same  reason  which  led  our  Lord  to  clothe  himself  with 
Hesh  made  it  proper,  when  he  was  born,  to  have  fulfilled  upon 
him  all  the  customs  of  his  people.  He  was  therefore  circumcised 
when  eight  days  old,  and  presented  in  the  Temple  on  the  fortieth 
day,  at  which  period  his  mother  had  completed  the  time  ajv 
pointed  for  her  purification.  The  offering  required  Avas  a  lamb 
and  a  dove  ;  but  if  the  parents  were  poor,  then  two  doves. 
Mary's  humble  condition  was  indicated  by  the  offering  of  two 
doves.  And  yet,  if  she  had  heard  the  exclamation  of  John  after 
the  Lord's  baptism,  years  afterwards,  she  might  have  perceived 
that,  in  spite  of  her  poverty,  she  had  brought  the  Lamb,  divine 
and  precious! 

4- ^ 


a- ^ 

26  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

Surprise  upon  surprise  awaited  Mary.  There  dwelt  at  Jerusa- 
lem, wrapped  in  his  own  devout  and  longing  thoughts,  a  great 
nature,  living  contentedly  in  obscurity,  Simeon  by  name.  This 
venerable  man  seized  the  child  with  holy  rapture,  when  it  was 
presented  in  the  Temple,  and  broke  forth  in  the  very  spirit  of  a 
prophet :  — 

"  Lord,  now  lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart  in  peace, 
According  to  thy  word  : 
For  mine  eyes  have  seen  thy  salvation, 
Wliich  tliou  liast  prepared  before  the  face  of  all  people ; 
A  light  to  lighten  the  Gentiles, 
And  tlie  glory  of  thy  people  Israel." 

Both  Mary  and  Joseph  were  amazed,  1)ut  there  was  something 
in  Mary's  apjiearance  that  drew  this  inspired  old  man  specially  to 
her.     "  Behold,  this  child  is  set  for  the  foil  and   rising  again  of 

many  in  Israel Yea,  a  sword  shall  pierce  through  thine 

own  soul  also." 

As  the  asters,  among  plants,  go  all  summer  long  unbeautifid, 
their  flowers  hidden  within,  and  burst  into  bloom  at  the  very 
end  of  summer  and  in  late  autumn,  with  the  frosts  upon  their 
heads,  so  this  aged  saint  had  blossomed,  at  the  close  of  a  long 
life,  into  this  noble  ecstasy  of  joy.  In  a  stormy  time,  when  out- 
ward life  moves  wholly  against  one's  wishes,  he  is  truly  great 
whose  soul  becomes  a  sanctuary  in  which  patience  dwells  with 
hope.  In  one  hour  Simeon  received  full  satisfoction  for  the 
yearnings  of  many  years  ! 

Among  the  Jews,  more  perhaps  than  in  any  other  Oriental 
nation,  woman  was  permitted  to  develop  naturally,  and  liberty 
was  accorded  her  to  participate  in  things  which  other  people 
reserved  with  zealous  seclusion  for  men.  Hebrew  women  were 
prophetesses,  teachers  (2  Kings  xxii.  14),  judges,  queens.  The 
advent  of  our  Saviour  was  hailed  appropriately  by  woman, — 
Anna,  the  prophetess,  joining  with  Simeon  in  praise  and  thanks- 
giving. 

But  other  witnesses  were  preparing.  Already  the  footsteps 
of  strangers  afor  off  were  advancing  toward  Judaea.  Erelong 
Jerusalem  was  thrown  into  an  excitement  by  the  arrival  of 
certain  sages,  probably  from  Persia.  The  city,  like  an  imeasy 
volcano,  was  always  on  the  eve  of  an  eruption.  When  it  was 
known  that  these  pilgrims  had  come  to  inquire  about  a  king, 

^ ^ 


a- ^ -zzizz 

THE   OVERTURE   OF  ANGELS.  27 

who,  they  believed,  had  been  born,  a  king  of  the  Jews,  the  news 
excited  both  the  city  and  the  palace,— hope  m  one,  fear  in  the 
other.  Herod  dreaded  a  rival.  The  Jews  longed  for  a  native 
prince  whose  arm  should  expel  the  intrusive  government  No 
wonder  that  "  Herod  was  troubled,  and  all  Jerusalem  with  him." 
He  first  summoned  the  Jewish  scholars,  to  know  where,  accord- 
ing to  their  prophets,  the  Messiah  was  to  be  born.  Bethlehem 
was  the  place  of  prediction.  Next,  he  summoned  the  Magi, 
secretly,  to  learn  of  them  at  what  time  the  revealing  star  had 
ai^peared  to  them,  and  then,  craftily  veiling  his  cruel  purposes 
with  an  assumed  interest,  he  charges  them,  when  the  child  was 
found,  to  let  him  be  a  worshipper  too ! 

The  same  star  which  had  drawn  their  footsteps  to  Jerusalem 
now  guided  the  wise  men  to  the  very  place  of  Jesus'  birth. 

What  was  this  star?  All  that  can 
be  known  is,  that  it  was  some  appear- 
ance of  light  in  the  sky,  which  by 
these  Oriental  philosophers  was  sup- 
posed to  indicate  a  great  event.  In- 
genuity has  unnecessarily  been  exer- 
cised to  prove  that  at  about  this  time 
there  was  a  conjunction  of  three  plan- 
ets. But  did  the  same  thing  happen 
again,  after  their  arrival  at  Jerusalem  ? 
For  it  is  stated  that,  on  their  leaving 
the  city  to  go  to  Bethlehem,  "lo,  the- 

,    .     ,  ORSTTHOGALUM    CMBELLATUM. 

Star  which  they  saw  ui  the  east  went  icaiird-n^siaraf&chuium.") 
before  them  till  it  came  and  stood'  over  where  the  youn"-  child 
was."  How  could  a  planetary  conjunction  stand  over  a  particu- 
lar house  ?  It  is  evident  that  the  sidereal  guide  was  a  globe  of 
light,  divinely  ordered  and  appointed  for  this  work.  It  was  a 
muacle.  That  nature  is  but  an  organized  outworkmg  of  the 
divuie  will,  that  God  is  not  limited  to  ordinary  law  in  the  pro- 
duction of  results,  that  he  can,  and  that  he  does,  produce  events 
by  the  direct  force  of  his  will  Avithout  the  ordinary  instruments 
of  nature,  is  the  very  spirit  of  the  whole  Bible. 

These  gleams  of  immediate  power  flash  through  in  every  age. 
The  superiority  of  spirituaL  power  over  sensuous,  is  the  illumi- 
nating truth  of  the    New  Testament     The   gospels   should    be 


-a 


cfr 


# 


a- 


-a 


28 


THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 


taken  or  rejected  unmiitilated.  The  disciples  plucked  the  wheats 
heads,  and,  rubbing  them  in  their  hands,  they  ate  the  grain. 
Bat  our  sceptical  believers  take  from  the  New  Testament  its 
supernatural  element,  —  rub  out  the  wheat,  —  and  eat  the  chaff. 
There  is  consistency  in  one  who  sets  the  gospels  aside  on  the 
ground  that  they  are  not  inspired,  that  they  are  not  even  his- 
torical, that  they  are  growths  of  the  imagination,  and  covered 
all  over  with  the  pai-asites  of  superstition ;  but  in  one  who  pro- 
fesses to  accept  the  record  as  an  inspired  history,  the  disposition 
to  pare  miracles  down  to  a  scientific  shape,  to  find  their  roots 
in  natural  laws,  is  neither  reverent  nor  sagacious.  Miracles  are 
to  be  accepted  boldly  or  not  at  all.  They  are  jewels,  and 
sparkle  Avith  divine  light,  or  they  are  nothing. 

This  guide  of  the  Magi  was  a  light  kindled  in  the  heavens 
to  instruct  and  lead  those  whose  eyes  were  prepared  to  receive 
it.  If  the  vision  of  angels  and  the  extraordinary  conception  of 
the  Virgin  are  received  as  miraculous,  it  ought  not  to  be  difficult 
to  accept  the  star  seen  from  the  east  as  a  miracle  also. 

The  situation  of  the  child  ill 
befitted  Oriental  notions  of  a 
king's  dignity.  But  under  the 
divine  influence  which  rested 
upon  the  Magi,  they  doubtless 
saw  more  than  the  outward 
circumstances.  Humble  as  the 
place  was,  poor  as  his  parents 
evidently  were,  and  he  a  mere 
babe,  they  fell  down  before  him 
in  worship,  and  presented  prince- 
Iv  gifts,  "  gold,  frankincense,  and 
myrrh."  Instead  of  returning  to 
Ilerod,  they  went  back  to  their 
own  country. 

And  now  it  was  time  for  Jo- 
seph to  look  well  to  his  safety.  If  there  was  to  be  a  king  in 
Israel,  he  was  to  come  from  the  house  of  David,  and  Joseph 
was  of  that  stock,  and  his  child,  Jesus,  was  royal  too.  Herod's 
jealousy  was  aroused.  He  was  not  a  man  wont  to  miss  the  ful- 
filment of  any  desire  on  account  of  humane  or  moral  scruj^les. 


FUAXKIXCEXSE   AND    MYRRH. 


fr- 


f 


-a 


THE   OVERTURE    OF  ANGELS.  29 

The  return  of  the  Magi  without  giving  him  the  knowledge 
which  he  sought  seemed  doubtless  to  the  king  like  another  step 
in  a  iilot  to  subvert  his  throne.  He  determined  to  make  thor- 
ough work  of  this  nascent  peril,  "and  sent  forth  and  slew  all 
the  children  that  were  in  Bethlehem,  and  in  all  the  coasts  there- 
of, from  two  years  old  and  under."  He  put  the  limit  of  age 
at  a  period  which  would  make  it  sure  that  the  new-born  kino- 
of  the  Jews  would  be  included. 

It  has  been  objected  to  the  probable  truth  of  this  statement, 
that  such  an  event  could  hardly  fail  to  be  recorded  by  secular 
historians,  and  especially  by  Josephus,  who  narrates  the  contem- 
poraneous history  with  much  minuteness.  But  this  event  is  far 
more  striking  upon  our  imagination  now,  than  it  was  likely  to 
be  upon  the  attention  of  men  then.  For,  as  Bethlehem  was  a 
mere  hamlet,  with  but  a  handful  of  people,  it  has  been  computed 
that  not  more  than  ten  or  fifteen  children  could  have  perished 
by  this  merciless  edict.  Besides,  what  was  such  an  act  as  this, 
in  a  life  stored  full  of  abominable  cruelties  ?  "  He  who  had  im- 
molated a  cherished  wife,  a  brother,  and  three  sons  to  his  jealous 
suspicions,  and  who  ordered  a  general  massacre  for  the  day  of  his 
funeral,  so  that  his  body  should  not  be  borne  to  the  earth  amidst 
general  I'ejoicings,"  may  easily  be  supposed  to  have  filled  up  the 
spaces  with  minor  cruelties  which  escaped  record.  But  here  is 
an  historical  record.  It  is  no  impeachment  of  its  truth  to  aver 
that  there  is  no  other  history  of  it.  Until  some  disproof  is 
alleged,  it  must  stand. 

Stirred  hy  a  divine  impulse,  Joseph  had  already  removed  the 
child  from  danger.  Whither  should  he  flee  ?  Egypt  was  not 
distant,  and  the  roads  thither  were  easy  and  much  frequented. 
Thither  too,  from  time  to  time,  exiled  for  various  reasons,  had 
resorted  numbers  of  Jews,  so  that,  though  in  a  foreign  land,  he 
would  be  among  his  own  countrymen,  all  interested  alike  in 
hating  the  despotic  cruelty  of  Herod.  There  is  no  record  of  the 
place  of  Joseph's  sojourn  in  Egypt.  Tradition,  always  uncex'- 
tain,  places  it  at  Matarea,  near  Leontopolis,  where  subsequently 
the  Jewish  temple  of  Onias  stood. 

His  fiiny  was  probably  brief  For,  within  two  or  three  weeks 
of  the  foregoing  events,  Herod  died.  Joseph  did  not  return  to 
Bethlehem,  though  he  desired  to  do  so,  but  was  warned  of  God 

* ff 


[fi- 


30 


THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 


ill  a  dream  of  his  danger.  It  was  2)robable  that  Archelaus,  who 
succeeded  to  Herod  in  Judasa,  would  be  as  suspicious  of  danger 
from  an  heir  royal  of  the  house  of  David  as  his  father  had  been  ; 
so  Joseph  passed  —  it  may  be  by  way  of  the  sea-coast  —  north- 
ward, to  Nazareth,  whence  a  few  months  before  he  had  removed. 


^ 


VIEW   IN   WADY   ITHM. 


Before  closing  this  chapter  we  shall  revert  to  one  of  the  most 
striking  features  of  the  jjeriod  thus  far  passed  over,  namelj^,  ihc 
ministration  of  angels.  The  belief  in  the  existence  of  hea-\'enly 
beings  who  in  some  manner  are  concerned  m  the  affairs  of  men, 
has  existed  from  the  earliest  periods  of  which  we  have  a  his- 
tory. Tills  faith  is  peculiarly  grateful  to  the  human  heart,  and, 
though  it  has  never  l)een  received  with  favor  by  men  addicted 
to  purely  physical  studies,  it  has  been  entertained  by  the  Church 
with  fond  faith  and  by  the  common  jieople  with  the  enthusiasm 
of  sympathy. 

It  is  scarcely  possible  to  follow  the  line  of  development  in 
the  animal  kingdom,  and  to  witness  the  gradations  on  the  as- 
cending scale,  unfolding  steadily,  rank  above  rank,  until  man 
is  reached,  without  having  the  presumption  awakened  that  there 


^^ 


-^ 


a- 


-a 


THE   OVERTURE   OF  A y GELS.  31 

are  intelligences   above    man,  —  creatures  which   rise    as   much 
above  him  as  he  above  the  inferior  animals. 

When  the  word  of  God  announces  the  ministration  of  angels, 
records  their  early  visits  to  this  planet,  represents  them  as  bend- 
ing over  the  race  in  benevolent  sj'mpathy,  bearing  warnings, 
consolations,  and  messages  of  wisdom,  the  heart  receives  the 
doctrine  even  against  the  cautions  of  a  sceptical  reason. 

Our  faith  might  be  put  to  shame  if  the  scriptural  angels  bore 
any  analogy  to  those  of  the  rude  and  puerile  histories  contained 
in  apocryphal  books.  But  the  long  line  of  heavenly  visitants 
shines  in  unsullied  brightness  as  high  above  the  beliefs  and 
prejudices  of  an  early  age  as  the  stars  are  above  the  vapors 
and  dust  of  earth.  While  patriarchs,  prophets,  and  apostles 
show  all  the  deficiencies  of  their  own  period  and  are  stained 
with  human  passions,  the  angelic  beings,  judged  by  the  most 
flxstidious  requirements  of  these  later  ages,  are  without  spot  or 
blemish.  They  are  not  made  up  of  human  traits  idealized. 
They  are  unworldly,  — of  a  different  type,  of  nobler  presence, 
and  of  far  grander  and  sweeter  natures  than  any  living  on  earth. 

The  angels  of  the  oldest  records  are  like  the  angels  of  the 
latest.  The  Hebrew  thought  had  moved  through  a  vast  arc  of 
the  infinite  cycle  of  truth  between  the  days  when  Abraham 
came  from  Ur  of  Chalda^a  and  the  times  of  our  Lord's  stay  on 
earth.  But  there  is  no  development  in  angels  of  later  over 
those  of  an  earlier  date.  They  were  as  beautifid,  as  spiritual, 
as  pure  and  noble,  at  the  beginning  as  at  the  close  of  the  old 
dispensation.  Can  such  creatures,  transcending  earthly  experi- 
ence, and  far  outrunning  anything  in  the  life  of  man,  be  crea- 
tions of  the  rude  ages  of  the  human  understanding  ? 

We  could  not  imagine  the  Advent  stripped  of  its  angelic  lore. 
The  dawn  without  a  twilight,  the  sun  without  clouds  of  silver 
and  gold,  the  morning  on  the  fields  without  dew-diamonds, — 
but  not  the  Saviour  without  his  angels !  They  shine  within  the 
Temple,  they  bear  to  the  matchless  mother  a  message  which 
woidd  have  been  disgrace  from  mortal  lips,  but  which  from 
theirs  fell  upon  her  as  pure  as  dew-drops  upon  the  lilies  of  the 
plain  of  Esdraelon.  They  communed  with  the  Saviour  in  his 
glory  of  transfiguration,  sustained  him  in  the  anguish  of  the 
garden,  watched  at  the  tomb;   and  as  they  had  thronged  the 

* ^ 


[fl ^ — -^ 

32  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

earth  at  his  coming,  so  they  seem  to  have  hovered  in  the  air 
in  multitudes  at  the  hour  of  his  ascension.  Beautiful  as  they 
seem,  they  arc  never  mere  poetic  adornments.  The  occasions 
of  their  appearing  are  grand.  The  reasons  are  weighty.  Their 
demeanor  suggests  and  befits  the  highest  conception  of  superior 
beings.  These  are  the  very  elements  that  a  rude  age  could  not 
fashion.  Could  a  sensuous  age  invent  an  order  of  beings,  which, 
touching  the  earth  from  a  heavenly  height  on  its  most  momen- 
tous occasions,  could  still,  after  ages  of  culture  had  refined  the 
human  taste  and  moral  appreciation,  remain  ineffably  superior  in 
deUcacy,  in  pure  spirituality,  to  the  demands  of  criticism  ?  Their 
very  coming  and  going  is  not  with  earthly  movement.  They 
suddenly  are  seen  in  the  air  as  one  sees  Avhite  clouds  round 
out  from  the  blue  sky,  in  a  summer's  day,  that  melt  back  even 
while  one  looks  upon  them.  They  vibrate  between  the  visible 
and  the  invisible.  They  come  without  motion.  They  go  with- 
out flight.  They  dawn  and  disappear.  Their  words  are  few, 
but  the  Advent  Chorus  yet  is  sounding  its  music  through  the 
world. 

A  part  of  the  angelic  ministration  is  to  be  looked  for  in  what 
men  are  by  it  incited  to  do.  It  helps  the  mind  to  populate 
heaven  with  spiritual  inhabitants.  The  imagination  no  longer 
translates  thither  the  gross  corporeity  of  this  life.  We  suspect 
that  few  of  us  are  aware  how  much  our  definite  conceptions  of 
spirit-life  are  the  product  of  the  angel-lore  of  the  Bible. 

It  is  to  be  noticed  that  only  in  Luke  is  the  history  of  the 
angelic  annunciation  given.  It  is  to  Luke  also  that  we  are  in- 
debted for  the  record  of  the  angels  at  the  tomb  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  resurrection.  Luke  has  been  called  the  Evangelist 
of  Greece.  He  was  Paul's  companion  of  travel,  and  particularly 
among  the  Greek  cities  of  Asia  Minor.  This  suggests  the  fact 
that  the  angelic  ministration  commemorated  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment would  greatly  facilitate  among  Gi'eeks  the  recejjtion  of 
monotheism.  Comforting  to  us  as  is  the  doctrine  of  angels,  it 
can  hardly  be  of  the  same  help  as  it  was  to  a  Greek  or  to  a 
Roman  when  he  first  accepted  the  Christian  faith.  The  rejec- 
tion of  so  many  divinities  must  have  left  the  fields,  the  moun- 
tains, the  cities  and  temples  very  bare  to  all  who  had  been 
accustomed  to  heathen  mythology.     The  ancients  seem  to  have 

^ ^ ^ 


^ 

^ ^ — -a 

THE    OVERTURE   OF  ANGELS.  33 

striven  to  express  universal  divine  presence  by  multiph-ing  their 
gods.  This  at  least  had  the  effect  of  giving  life  to  every  part 
of  nature.  The  imaginative  Greek  had  grown  familiar  with  the 
thought  of  gods  mnumerable.  Every  stream,  each  grove,  the 
caves,  the  fields,  the  clouds,  suggested  some  di^'ine  person.  It 
would  be  almost  impossible  to  strip  such  a  one  of  those  fertile 
suggestions  and  tie  him  to  the  simple  doctrine  of  One  God, 
without  producing  a  sense  of  cheerlessness  and  soUtude.  Angels 
come  in  to  make  for  him  an  easy  transition  from  polytheism  to 
monotheism.  The  air  might  still  be  populous,  his  imagination 
yet  be  full  of  teeming  suggestions,  but  no  longer  with  false 
gods.  Now  there  was  to  him  but  one  God,  but  He  was  served 
by  multitudes  of  blessed  spirits,  children  of  light  and  glory. 
Instead  of  a  realm  of  conflicting  divmities  there  was  a  house- 
hold, the  Father  looking  in  benignity  upon  his  radiant  family. 
Thus,  again,  to  the  Greek,  as  to  the  Patriarch,  angels  ascended 
and  descended  the  steps  that  lead  from  earth  to  heaven. 


V 


/  ' 


t 


[&- 


-J 


0- -ft 


CHAPTER    III. 

THE    DOCTRINAL    BASIS. 

BEFORE  we  enter  upon  the  childhood  of  Jesns,  and,  with 
still  more  reason,  before  we  enter  upon  his  adult  life,  it  is 
necessary  to  form  some  idea  of  his  original  nature.  No  one 
conversant  with  the  ideas  on  this  point  which  fdl  the  Christian 
world  can  avoid  taking  sides  with  one  or  another  of  the  philo- 
sophical views  which  have  divided  the  Chin-ch.  Even  mere 
readers,  who  seem  to  themselves  uncommitted  to  any  doctrine 
of  the  nature  of  Christ,  are  unconsciously  in  sympathy  with 
some  theory.  But  to  draw  up  a  history  of  Christ  without  some 
pilotridea  is  impossible.  Every  fact  in  the  narrative  will  take  its 
color  and  form  from  the  philosophy  around  which  it  is  grouped. 
Was  Jesus,  then,  one  of  those  gifted  men  who  have  from  time 
to  time  arisen  in  the  world,  differing  from  their  fellows  only  in 
pre-eminence  of  earthly  power,  in  a  fortunate  temperament,  and 
a  happy  balance  of  faculties  ?  Was  he  simply  and  only  an 
extraordinary  Man  ?  This  \^ew  was  early  taken,  and  as  soon 
vehemently  combated.  But  it  has  never  ceased  to  be  held.  It 
reappears  in  every  age.  And  it  has  special  hold  upon  thought- 
ful minds  to-day ;  at  least,  upon  such  thoughtful  minds  as  are 
imbued  with  the  present  spirit  of  material  science.  The  physi- 
cal laws  of  nature,  we  are  told,  are  invariable  and  constant,  and 
all  true  knowledge  is  the  product  of  the  observation  of  such 
laws.  This  view  wiU  exclude,  not  only  miracles,  the  divine  in- 
spiration of  holy  men  of  old,  and  the  divinity  of  Jesus  Christ ; 
but,  if  honestly  followed  to  its  proper  consequences,  it  will 
destroy  the  grounds  on  which  stand  the  belief  of  the  immor- 
tality of  the  soul  and  of  the  existence  of  angels  and  spirits ; 
and,  finally  and  fatally,  it  will  deny  the  validity  of  all  evidences 
of  the  existence  and  government  of  God.  And  we  accordingly 
find  that,  on  the  Em-opean  continent  and  m  England,  the  men 


4- 


# 


^ ^ — -a 

THE  DOCTlilNAL  BASIS.  35 

of  some  recent  schools  of  science,  T\athout  denying  the  exist- 
ence of  an  inteUigent,  personal  God,  deny  that  there  is,  or  can 
be,  any  human  knowledge  of  the  fiict.  The  natm-e  of  the  human 
mind,  and  the  laws  under  which  all  knowledge  is  gained,  it  is 
taught,  prevent  our  knowing  with  certainty  anything  beyond 
the  reach  of  the  senses  and  of  personal  consciousness.  God  is 
the  Unknown,  and  the  life  beyond  this'  the  Unknowable.  There 
are  many  inclining  to  this  position  who  would  be  shocked  at  the 
results  to  which  it  logically  leads.  But  it  is  difficult  to  see  how 
one  can  reject  miracles,  as  philosophically  impossible,  except 
upon  grounds  of  materialistic  science  which  lead  u-resistibly  to 
veiled  or  overt  atheism. 

The  Lives  of  Christ  which  have  been  written  from  the  purely 
humanitarian  view  have  not  been  without  theu-  benefits.  They 
have  brought  the  historical  elements  of  his  life  into  clearer 
light,  have  called  back  the  mind  from  speculative  and  imaguia- 
tive  efforts  in  sjjiritual  directions,  and  have  given  to  a  dim  and 
distant  idea  the  clearness  and  i-eality  of  a  fact.  Like  some  old 
picture  of  the  masters,  the  Gospels,  exposed  to  the  dust  and 
smoke  of  superstition,  to  revarnishing  glosses  and  retouching 
philosophies,  in  the  sight  of  many  had  lost  their  original  bright- 
ness and  beauty.  The  rationalistic  school  has  done  much  to 
remove  these  false  surfaces,  and  to  bi'ing  back  to  the  eye  the 
original  picture  as  it  was  laid  upon  the  canvas. 

But,  this  work  ended,  every  step  beyond  has  been  mis- 
chievous. The  genius  of  the  Gospels  has  been  crucified  to  a 
theory  of  Christ's  humanity.  The  canons  of  historical  criticism 
have  been  adopted  or  laid  aside  as  the  exigencies  of  the  special 
theory  required.  The  most  lawless  fancy  has  been  called  in  to 
correct  the  alleged  fancifulness  of  the  evangelists.  Not  only 
has  the  picture  been  "  restored,"  but  the  pigments  have  been 
taken  off",  reground,  and  laid  on  again  by  modern  hands.  A 
new  head,  a  different  countenance,  appears.  They  found  a  God  : 
tliey  have  left  a  feeble  man  ! 

Dissatisfied  with  the  barrenness  of  this  school,  which  leaves 
nothing  upon  which  devotion  may  fasten,  another  class  of  think- 
ers have  represented  Jesus  as  more  than  human,  but  as  less 
than  divine.  What  that  being  is  to  whose  kind  Jesus  belongs, 
they  cannot  tell.     Theirs  is  a  theory  of  compromise.     It  adopts 

^ -& 


[0 -ft 

36  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

the  obscure  as  ti  means  of  hiding  definite  difficulties.  It  admits 
the  grandeur  of  Christ's  nature,  and  the  suljlimity  of  his  life 
and  teachings.  It  exalts  him  above  angels,  but  not  to  the  level 
of  the  Throne.  It  leaves  him  in  that  wide  and  mysterious  space 
that  lies  between  the  finite  and  the  infinite. 

The  theological  difficulties  which  inhere  in  such  a  theory  are 
many.  It  may  enable  reasoners  to  elude  pursuit,  but  it  will  not 
give  them  any  vantage-ground  for  a  conflict  with  philosophical 
objections.  And  yet,  as  the  pilot-idea  of  a  Life  of  Christ,  it  is 
far  less  mischievous  than  the  strictly  humanitarian  view  ;  it  does 
less  violence  to  recorded  facts.  But  it  cannot  create  an  ideal 
on  which  the  soul  may  feed.  After  the  last  touch  is  given  to 
the  canvas,  we  see  only  a  Creature.  The  soul  admires ;  but  it 
must  go  elsewhere  to  bestow  its  utmost  love  and  revei'ence. 

A  third  view  is  held,  which  may  be  called  the  doctrine  of  the 
Church,  at  least  since  the  fourth  century.  It  attributes  to  Jesus 
a  double  nature,  —  a  human  soul  and  a  divine  soul  in  one  body. 
It  is  not  held  that  these  two  soids  existed  separately  and  in 
juxtaposition,  —  two  separate  tenants,  as  it  were,  of  a  common 
dwelling.  Neither  is  it  taught  that  either  soul  absorbed  the 
other,  so  that  the 'divine  lapsed  into  the  human,  or  the  human 
expanded  into  the  divine.  But  it  is  held  that,  by  the  union 
of  a  human  and  a  divine  nature,  the  one  person  Jesus  Christ 
became  God-Man ;  a  Ijeing  carrying  in  himself  both  natures, 
inseparably  blended,  and  never  again  to  be  dissevered.  This 
new  iheunthropic  being,  of  blended  divinity  and  humanity,  will 
occasion  no  surprise  in  those  who  are  famiUar  with  modes  of 
thought  which  belonged  to  the  early  theologians  of  the  Church. 
It  is  only  when,  in  our  day,  this  doctrine  is  supposed  to  be 
found  in  the  New  Testament,  that  one  is  inclined  to  surprise. 

For,  as  in  a  hot  campaign  the  nature  of  the  lines  of  intrench- 
ment  is  determined  by  the  assaults  of  the  enemy,  so  this  doc- 
trine took  its  shape,  not  from  Scripture  statements,  but  from 
the  exigencies  of  controversy.  It  was  thrown  iip  to  meet  the 
assaults  upon  the  true  divinity  of  Christ;  and,  although  cum- 
brous and  involved,  it  saved  Christianity.  For,  the  truth  of  the 
proper  di^^nity  of  Christ  is  the  marrow  of  the  sacred  Scriptures. 
It  is  the  only  point  at  which  natural  and  revealed  religion  can 
be  reconciled. 

^ -# 


-a 


[fi . 

THE  DOCTRINAL   BASIS.  37 

But  if  by  another  and  better  statement  the  divinity  of  Christ 
can  be  exliibited  in  equal  eminence  and  with  greater  simplicity, 
and  if  such  exhibition  shall  be  found  in  more  obvious  accord 
with  the  language  of  the  New  Testament,  and  Avith  what  we 
now  know  of  mental  philosophy,  it  Avill  be  wise,  in  construct- 
ing a  life  of  Christ,  to  leave  the  antiquated  theory  of  the  me- 
diajval  Church,  and  return  to  the  simple  and  more  philosophical 
views  of  the  sacred  Scriptures. 

We  must  bear  in  mind  that  many  questions  which  have 
profoundly  excited  the  curiosity  of  thinkers,  and  agitated  the 
Church,  bad  not  even  entered  into  the  conceptions  of  men  at 
the  time  when  the  writings  of  the  New  Testament  were  framed. 
They  are  mediaeval  or  modern.  The  Romish  doctrine  of  the 
Virgin  Mary  could  hardly  have  been  understood  even,  by  the 
apostles.  The  speculations  which  have  absorbed  the  thoughts 
of  men  for  ages  are  not  only  not  found  in  the  sacred  record, 
l)ut  would  have  been  incongruous  with  its  whole  spirit.  The 
evangelists  never  reason  upon  any  question  ;  they  simply  state 
what  they  saw  or  heard.  They  never  deduce  inferences  and 
principles  from  facts.  They  frame  their  narrations  without  any 
apparent  consciousness  of  the  philosophical  rdations  of  the  facts 
contained  in  them  to  each  other  or  to  any  system.  It  is  prob- 
able that  the  mystery  of  the  Incarnation  never  entered  their 
minds  as  it  exists  in  ours.  It  was  to  them  a  moral  fact,  and 
not  a  philosophical  problem. 

How  Jesus  was  Son  of  God,  and  yet  Son  of  Man,  is  nowhere 
spoken  of  in  those  simple  records.  The  evangelists  and  the 
apostles  content  themselves  with  simply  declaring  that  God 
came  into  the  world  in  the  form  of  a  man.  "  The  Word  was 
God."  "  And  the  Word  was  made  flesh,  and  dwelt  among  us." 
This  is  all  the  explanation  given  by  the  disciple  who  was  most 
in  sympathy  with  Jesus.  Jesus  was  God  ;  and  he  ^vas  made 
flesh.  The  simplest  rendering  of  these  words  would  seem  to 
be,  that  the  Divine  Spirit  had  enveloped  himself  with  the 
human  body,  and  in  that  condition  been  subject  to  the  indis- 
pensable limitations  of  material  laws.  Paul's  statement  is  almost 
a  direct  historical  narrative  of  facts.  "Let  this  mind  be  in  you 
which  was  also  in  Christ  Jesus  :  who,  being  in  the  form  of  God, 
thought  it  not  robbery  to  be  equal  with  God ;  but  made  himself 

tfr-^- ^ 


38  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE    CHRIST. 

of  no  reputation,  and  took  upon  him  the  form  of  a  servant,  and 
was  made  in  the  likeness  of  men;  and  being  found  in  fashion  as  a 
man,  he  humbled  himself  and  became  obedient  unto  death,  even 
the  death  of  the  cross."  (Phil.  ii.  5-8.)  This  is  a  simple  state- 
ment that  Jesus,  a  Divine  Person,  brought  his  nature  into  the 
human  body,  and  was  subject  to  all  its  laws  and  conditions. 
No  one  can  extract  from  this  the  notion  of  two  intermixed 
souls  in  one  nature. 

The  same  form  of  statement  appears  in  Romans  viii.  3  :  "  For 
what  the  law  could  not  do,  in  that  it  was  weak  through  the 
flesh,  God,  sending  his  own  Son  in  the  likeness  of  sinful  Jlesh,  and 
for  sin,  condemned  sin  in  the  flesh."  There  is  no  hint  here  of 
joining  a  hinnau  soul  to  the  divine.  In  not  a  single  passage 
of  the  New  Testament  is  such  an  idea  even  suggested.  The 
language  which  is  used  on  this  subject  is  such  as  could  not 
have  been  employed  by  one  who  had  in  his  mind  the  notion  of 
two  soifls  in  coexistence. 

As  it  is  unsafe  to  depart  from  the  obvious  teaching  of  the 
sacred  Scriptures  on  a  theme  so  far  removed  from  all  human 
knowledge,  we  shall  not,  in  this  Life  of  our  Lord,  render  our- 
selves subject  to  the  hopeless  colifusions  of  the  theories  of  the 
schools,  but  shall  cling  to  the  simple  and  intelligible  representa- 
tions of  the  Word.  ''  Great  is  the  mystery  of  godliness  :  God 
was  manifest  in  the  flesh,  justified  in  the  Spirit,  seen  of  angels, 
preached  unto  the  Gentiles,  believed  on  in  the  world,  received 
up  into  glory."     (1  Tini.  iii.  16.) 

The  Divine  Spirit  came  into  the  world,  in  the  person  of  Jesus, 
not  bearing  the  attributes  of  Deity  in  their  full  disclosure  and 
power.  He  came  into  the  world  to  subject  his  spirit  to  that 
whole  discipline  and  experience  through  which  every  man  must 
pass.  He  veiled  his  royalty  ;  he  folded  back,  as  it  were,  within 
himself  those  inefiable  powers  which  belonged  to  him  as  a  free 
spirit  in  heaven.  He  went  into  captivity  to  himself,  wrapping 
in  weakness  and  forgetfulness  his  divine  energies,  while  he  was 
a  babe.  "  Being  found  in  fishion  as  a  man,"  he  was  subject  to 
that  gradual  unfolding  of  his  buried  powers  which  belongs  to 
infancy  and  childhood.  '"And  the  child  grew,  and  waxed  strong 
in  spirit."  He  was  subject  to  the  restrictions  which  hold  and 
hinder  common  men.     He  was  to  come  back  to  himself  little 

^ ^ 


a-*- 


-a 


THE  DOCTRINAL  BASIS. 


39 


by  little.  Who  shall  say  that  God  cannot  put  himself  into  finite 
conditions  ?  Though  as  a  free  spirit  God  cannot  grow,  yet  as 
fettered  in  the  flesh  he  may.  Breaking  out  at  times  with 
amazing  power,  in  single  directions,  yet  at  other  times  feelino- 
the  mist  of  humanity  resting  upon  his  eyes,  he  declares,  "  Of 
that  day  and  that  hour  knoweth  no  man,  no,  not  the  ano-els 
which  are  in  heaven,  neither  the  Son,  but  the  Father."  This  is 
just  the  experience  which  we  should  expect  in  a  beinfi-  whose 
problem  of  life  was,  not  the  disclosure  of  the  full  power  and 
glory  of  God's  natural  attributes,  but  the  manifestation  of  the 
love  of  God,  and  of  the  extremities  of  self-renunciation  to  which 
the  Divine  heart  would  submit,  in  the  rearing  up  from  animal- 
ism and  passion  his  fiimily  of  children.  The  incessant  looking 
for  the  signs  of  divine  power  and  of  infinite  attributes,  in  the 
earthly  life  of  Jesus,  whose  mission  it  was  to  bring  the  Di\ane 
Spii'it  within  the  conditions  of  feeble  humanity,  is  as  if  one 
should  search  a  dethroned  king,  in  exile,  for  his  crown  and  his 
sceptre.  We  are  not  to  look  for  a  glorified,  an  enthroned 
Jesus,  but  for  God  manifest  in  the  flesh;  and  in  this  view  the 
very  limitations  and  seeming  discrepancies  in  a  Divine  life  be- 
come congruous  parts  of  the  whole  subhme  problem. 

We  are  to  remember  that,  whatever  view  of  the  mystery  be 
taken,  there  will  be  difficulties  which  no  ingenuity  can  solve. 
But  we  are  to  distinguish  between  difficulties  which  are  inherent 
in  the  nature  of  the  Infinite,  and  tho.se  which  are  but  the  imper- 
fections of  our  own  philosophy.  In  the  one  case,  the  perplexity 
lies  in  the  weakness  of  our  reason ;  in  the  other,  in  the  weak- 
ness of  our  reasoning.  The  former  will  always  be  burdensome 
enough,  without  adding  to  it  the  pressure  of  that  extraordinary 
theory  of  the  Incarnation,  which,  without  a  single  express  Scrij> 
tural  statement  in  its  support.,  works  out  a  compound  divine 
nature,  without  analogue  or  parallel  in  human  mental  philosopliy. 

Early  theologians  believed  suffering  to  be  mconsistent  with 
the  Divine  perfection.  Impassivity  was  essential  to  true  divin- 
ity. With  such  ideas  of  the  Divine  nature,  how  could  they 
believe  that  Jesus,  a  man  of  suffering,  and  acquainted  with 
grief,  was  divine  ?  A  human  soul  was  therefore  conjoined  to 
the  di\'ine,  and  to  that  human  element  were  ascribed  all  the 
phenomena  of  weakness  and  suffering  which  they  shrank  from 


^ 


& 


40  TBE  LIFE    OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

imputing  to  tlie  Deity.  This  disordered  reverence  was  corrobo- 
rated by  imperfect  notions  of  what  constitutes  a  true  manhood. 
If  God  became  a  true  man,  they  argued,  he  must  have  had  a 
human  soul.  As  if  the  Divine  nature  clothed  in  flesh  did  not 
constitute  the  most  absolute  manhood,  and  fill  up  the  whole 
ideal ! 

Man's  nature  and  God's  nature  do  not  difi'er  in  kind,  but  in 
degree  of  the  same  attributes.  Love  in  God  is  love  in  man. 
Justice,  mercy,  benevolence,  are  not  diiferent  in  nature,  but 
only  in  degree  of  power  and  excellence.  "And  God  said,  Let 
us  make  man  in  our  image,  after  our  likeness."  (Gen.  i.  26.) 
'*  In  him  we  live,  and  move,  and  have  our  being For- 
asmuch then  as  we  are  the  offspring  of  God,"  etc.  (Acts  xvii. 
28,  29.) 

This  identification  of  the  divine  and  the  human  nature  was 
one  of  the  grand  results  of  the  Incarnation.  The  beauty  and 
preciousness  of  Christ's  eartUy  life  consist  in  its  being  a  true 
divine  life,  a  presentation  to  us,  in  forms  that  we  can  compre- 
hend, of  the  very  thoughts,  feelings,  and  actions  of  God  when 
placed  in  our  condition  in  this  mortal  life.  To  insert  two  na- 
tures is  to  dissolve  the  charm. 

Christ  was  very  God.  Yet,  when  clothed  with  a  human  body, 
and  made  subject  through  that  body  to  physical  laws,  he  was 
then  a  man,  of  the  same  moral  faculties  as  man,  of  the  same 
mental  nature,  subject  to  precisely  the  same  trials  and  tempta- 
tions, only  without  the  weakness  of  sin.  A  human  soul  is  not 
something  other  and  difl[erent  from  the  Divine  soul.  It  is  as 
like  it  as  the  son  is  like  his  father.  God  is  father,  man  is  son. 
As  God  in  our  place  becomes  human,  —  such  being  the  simi- 
larity of  the  essential  natures,  —  so  man  in  God  becomes  divine. 
Thus  we  learn  not  only  to  what  our  manhood  is  coming,  but 
when  the  Divine  Spirit  takes  our  whole  condition  upon  himself, 
we  see  the  thoughts,  the  feelings,  and,  if  we  may  so  say,  the 
private  and  domestic  inclinations  of  God.  What  he  was  on" 
earth,  in  his  sympathies,  tastes,  friendships,  generous  familiari- 
ties, gentle  condescensions,  we  shall  find  him  to  be  in  heaven, 
only  in  a  profusion  and  amplitude  of  disclosure  far  beyond  the 
earthly  hints  and  glimpses. 

The  tears  of  Christ  were  born   of  the  flesh,  but  the  tender 

^ ^ 


THE  DOCTRINAL   BASIS.  4^ 

syinpaihy  which  showed  itself  by  those  precious  tokens  dwells 
unwasted  and  forever  in  the  nature  of  God.  The  gentleness 
the  compassion,  the  patience,  the  loving  habit,  the  truth  and 
equity,  which  were  displayed  in  the  daily  life  of  the  Saviour 
were  not  so  many  experiences  of  a  human  soul  mated  with  the' 
Divine  but  were  the  proper  expressions  of  the  very  Divine 
soul  Itself,  that  men  might  see,  in  God,  a  true  and  perfect 
manhood.  When  Jesus,  standing  before  his  disciples  as  a  fuU 
man,  was  asked  to  reveal  God  the  Father,  he  answered,  "He 
hat  hath  seen  me  hath  seen  the  Father."  Manhood  is  nearer 
to  godhood  than  we  have  been  wont  to  believe. 


^S— 


i 


a- -^ 


CHAPTER      IV. 

CHILDHOOD   AND   RESIDENCE   AT  NAZARETH. 

THE  parents  of  Je.sus  returned  to  Nazareth,  and  there  for 
many  years  they  and  their  child  were  to  dwell. 

There  was  nothing  that  we  know  of,  to  distinguish  this  child 
from  any  other  that  ever  was  Jjoru.  It  passed  through  the 
twilight  of  infancy  as  helpless  and  dependent  as  all  other  chil- 
dren must  ever  be.  If  we  had  dwelt  at  Nazareth  and  daily 
seen  the  child  Jesus,  we  should  have  seen  the  cradle-life  of 
other  children.  This  was  no  prodigy.  He  did  not  speak  won- 
derful wisdom  in  his  infancy.  He  slept  or  waked  upon  his 
mother's  bosom,  as  all  children  do.  He  unfolded,  first  the  per- 
ceptive reason,  afterwards  the  voluntary  powers.  He  was  nour- 
ished and  he  grew  under  the  same  laws  which  govern  infant  life 
now.  This  then  was  not  a  divinity  coming  through  the  clouds 
into  human  life,  fuU-orbed,  triumphing  with  the  undiminished 
strength  of  a  heavenly  nature  over  those  conditions  which  men 
must  bear.  If  this  was  a  divine  person,  it  was  a  divine  child, 
and  childhood  meant  latent  powei",  undeveloped  faculty,  unripe 
organs ;  a  being  without  habits,  without  character,  without  expe- 
rience ;  a  cluster  of  germs,  a  branch  full  of  unblossomed  buds, 
a  mere  seed  of  manhood.  Except  his  mother's  arms,  there  was 
no  cii'cle  of  light  about  his  head,  fondly  as  artists  have  loved 
to  paint  it.  But  for  the  after-record  of  Scriptures,  we  should 
have  no  reason  to  suppose  that  this  child  differed  in  any  respect 
from  ordinary  children.  Yet  this  was  the  Son  of  God !  This 
was  that  Word  of  whom  John  spake :  "  In  the  beginning  was 
the  Word,  and  the  Word  was  with  God,  and  the  Word  was 
God ! " 

It  was  natural  that  Joseph  and  Mary  should  desire  to  settle 
in  Judaea.  Not  alone  because  here  was  the  home  of  their 
father  David,  but  especially  because,  when  once   they  believed 


[&■ 


J 


'^ -a 

CHILDHOOD  AND  RESIDENCE  AT  NAZARETH.  43 

their  son  Jesus  destined  to  fulfil  the  prophecies  concerning  the 
Messiah,  they  would  wish  him  to  be  educated  near  to  Jerusalem. 
To  them,  doubtless,  the  Temple  and  its  priesthood  were  yet  the 
highest  exponents  of  religion. 

Divine  Providence,  however,  removed  him  as  far  from  the 
Temple  and  its  influences  as  possible.  Half-heatlien  Galilee  was 
better  for  liis  youth  than  Jerusalem.  To  Nazareth  we  must 
look  for  his  early  history.  But  what  can  be  gleaned  there, 
when  for  twelve  years  of  childhood  the  only  syllable  of  history 
uttei-ed  is,  "And  the  child  grew,  and  waxed  strong  in  spirit, 
filled  with  wisdom,  and  the  grace  of  God  was  upon  him "  ? 

Not  a  single  fact  is  recorded  of  his  appearance,  his  infantine 
ways;  what  his  parents  thought,  what  his  brothers  and  sisters 
thought  of  him ;  the  impression  made  by  him  upon  neighbors ; 
whether  he  went  to  school ;  how  early,  if  at  all,  he  put  his  hand 
to  work ;  whether  he  was  lively  and  gay,  or  sad  and  thought- 
ful, or  both  by  turns;  whether  he  was  meditative  and  refined, 
standing  apart  from  others,  or  robust,  and  addicted  to  sports 
among  his  young  associates :  no  one  knows,  or  can  know,  what- 
ever may  be  inferred  or  suspected.  He  emerges  for  a  moment 
into  history  at  twelve  years  of  age,  going  with  his  parents  to 
Jerusalem.  That  glimpse  is  the  last  which  is  given  us  for  the 
next  sixteen  or  eighteen  years. 

But  regarding  a  life  over  which  men  have  hung  ^-ith  an 
interest  so  absorbing,  it  is  impossible  to  restrain  the  imagina- 
tion. There  will  always  be  a  fiUmg  up  of  the  vacant  spaces. 
If  not  done  by  the  pen,  it  wUl  none  the  less  be  done  m  some 
more  fanciful  way  by  free  thoughts,  which,  incited  l^oth  hy  curi- 
osity and  devotion,  will  hover  over  the  probabilities  when  there 
is  nothing  better.  Nor  need  this  be  mischievous.  There  are 
certain  generic  experiences  which  must  have  befallen  Jesus, 
because  they  belong  to  all  human  life.  He  was  a  child.  He 
was  subject  to  parental  authority.  He  lived  among  citizens  and 
luider  the  laws.  He  ate,  drank,  laljored,  was  weaiy,  refreshed 
himself  by  sleep.  He  mingled  among  men,  transacted  affairs 
with  them,  and  exchanged  daily  salutations.  He  wa.'^  pleased 
or  displeased ;  he  was  glad,  often  and  often  sorrowful.  He  Avas 
subject  to  the  oscillations  of  mood  which  belong  to  finely  organ- 
ized persons.     There  must  have  been  manifestations  of  filial  love 

^ ^ 


^ Q] 

44  TIfE  LIFE    OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

In  looking  upon  men  he  was  subject  to  emotions  of  grief,  pit_y, 
and  indignation,  or  of  sympathy  and  approval.  He  was  a  child 
before  he  was  a  man.  He  had  those  nameless  graces  which 
belong  to  all  ingenuous  boys;  and  though  he  must  have  seemed 
precocious,  at  least  to  his  own  household,  there  is  no  evidence 
that  he  was  thought  remarkable  by  his  fellow-citizens.  On  the 
other  hand,  none  were  less  prepared  to  see  him  take  a  promi- 
nent part  in  public  affairs  than  the  very  people  who  had  known 
him  from  infancy.  "  Whence  hath  this  man  this  wisdom,  and 
these  mighty  works  ?  Is  not  this  the  carpenter's  son  ?  Is  not 
his  mother  called  Mary  ?  and  his  brethren,  James,  and  Joses, 
and  Simon,  and  Judas?  and  his  sisters,  are  they  not  all  with 
us  ? "  —  this  is  not  the  language  of  admiring  neighl)oi's,  who  had 
thought  the  boy  a  prodigy  and  had  always  predicted  that  he 
would  become  remarkable !  This  incident  throws  back  a  light 
upon  his  childhood.  If  he  went  through  the  ordinary  evolutions 
of  youth  it  is  certain  that  the  universal  experiences  of  that 
period  must  have  beliiUen  him.  Nothing  could  be  more  imnatr 
m-al  than  to  suppose  that  he  was  a  child  without  a  childhood,  a 
full  and  perfect  being  cleft  from  the  Almighty,  as  Minei'va  was 
fabled  to  have  come  from  the  head  of  Jupiter;  who,  though  a 
Jew,  in  Nazareth,  probably  following  a  carpenter's  trade,  was 
yet  but  a  celestial  image,  a  white  and  slender  figure  floating 
in  a  half-spiritual  transfiguration  through  the  days  of  a  glorified 
childhood.  He  was  "  the  Son  of  Man,"  —  a  real  boy,  as  after- 
wards he  was  a  most  manly  man.  He  knew  every  step  of 
growth ;  he  underwent  the  babe's  experience  of  knowing  noth- 
ing, the  child's,  of  knowing  a  little,  the  vuiiversal  necessity  of 
development ! 

But  there  is  a  question  of  education,  which  has  been  much 
considered.  Was  the  development  of  his  nature  the  result  of 
internal  forces  ?  Or  was  he,  as  other  men  are  wont  to  be,  power- 
fully affected  by  external  circumstances  ?  Was  his  imagination 
touched  and  enriched  by  the  exquisite  scenery  about  him  ?  Did 
the  historic  associations  of  aU  this  Galilean  region  around  him 
develop  a  temper  of  patriotism  ?  Was  his  moral  nature  educated 
by  the  repvilsion  of  ignoble  men,  —  by  the  necessity  "of  toil, — 
by  the  synagogue,  —  by  his  mother  at  home,  —  and  by  his  hours 
of  solitar}'  meditation,  and  of  holy  communion  with  God  ? 

^ -^ 


-a 


[fr —  -^Z 

CHILDHOOD  AND  RESIDENCE  AT  NAZARETH.  45 

That  Jesus  was  sensitive  to  every  influence  which  would  shape 
an  honorable  nature,  is  not  to  be  doubted.  But  whether  there 
was  more  than  mere  recipiency,  may  well  be  questioned.  Cir- 
cumstances may  have  been  the  occasions,  but  not  the  causes, 
of  development  to  a  divine  mind,  oljscured  in  a  human  body,  and 
learning  to  regain  its  power  and  splendor  by  the  steps  which  m 
conmion  men  are  called  growth. 

We  shall  make  a  brief  discussion  of  the  point  a  means  of 
setting  before  the  mind  the  physical  features  of  Galilee,  and  the 
local  influences  which  prevailed  there  during  our  Lord's  life. 

If  it  was  desirable  to  bring  up  the  child  Jesus  as  far  as  pos- 
sible from  the  Temple  influence,  in  Palestine  and  yet  not  vmder 
excessive  Jewish    influence,  no    place    could    have   been  chosen 
better  than  Nazareth.     It  was  a  small  village,  obscure,  and  re- 
mote from  Jerusalem.     Its  very  name  had  never  occurred  in  the 
Old  Testament  records.     And   though,  after  the  foil  of  Jerusa- 
lem, Galilee  was  made  the  seat  of  Jewish  schools  of  religion,  — 
Sepharis,  but   a   few  miles  north  of  Nazareth,  being  the  liead- 
quarters, — yet,  at  our  Lord's  birth,  and  durmg  his  whole  life, 
this  region  of  Palestine  was  but  little  afiected   by  Jerusalem. 
The  population  was  a  mixed  one,  made  up  of  many  different 
nationalities.     A  debased  remnant  of  the  ten  tribes,  after  their 
captivity,  had  wandered  back,  with  Jewish  blood  and   heathen 
manners.     The  Roman  armies  and    Roman  rulers  had  brought 
into    the  province  a  great  many  foreigners.      A  large   Gentile 
population  had    divided  with   native   Jews    the  towns    and   vil- 
lages.    Greeks  swarmed  in  the  larger  commercial  towns.     Gal- 
ilee was,  far  more   than  Judtea,  cosmopolitan.     Commerce  and 
manufactures  had  thriven  by  the  side  of  agriculture.     Josephus 
says  that  Galilee   had  more  than  two  hundred  cities   and  vil- 
lages,  the    smallest   of  which    contained    not    less    than   fifteen 
thousand    inhabitants.      This    seems    an    extravagant   statement, 
but  it  will  serve  to  convey  an  idea  of  the  great  populousness 
of  the  province  in  which  the  youth  of  Jesus  was  spent  and  in 
which  also    his    public  life  was  chiefly  passed.     The    influences 
which  had  changed  -the  people  had  provincialized  their  language. 
A  Galilean  was  known  by  his  speech,  which  seems  to  have  been 
regarded  as  unrefined  and  vulgar.'^ 

'  Mark  xiv.  70  ;    Acts  ii.  7. 

4- -^ 


^ -^ 

4G  7WA'  LIFE  OF  JFSUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

Among  such  a  people  was  the  Lord  reared.  If,  as  is  prob- 
able, he  followed  his  fathei^'s  business  and  worked  among  the 
common  people,  we  may  perceive  that  his  education,  remote 
from  the  Temple,  not  only  saved  him  from  the  influence  of  the 
dead  and  corrupt  schools  of  Jerusalem,  but  brought  him  into 
sympathetic  relations  with  the  most  lowly  hi  life.  In  all  his 
after  ministry,  apart  from  his  divine  insight,  he  could  of  his  own 
experience  understand  the  feelings,  tastes,  and  needs  of  his  audi- 
ences. "  The  common  people  heard  him  gladly."  He  had 
sprung  from  among  them.  He  had  been  reared  in  their  pur- 
suits and  habits.  For  thirty  years  he  was  a  man  among  men, 
a  laboring  man  among  laboring  men.  It  is  in  this  contact  with 
human  life  on  all  its  sides,  —  with  the  pure  Jew,  with  the 
degenerate  Jew,  with  the  Greek,  the  Phoenician,  the  Roman, 
the  S^a-ian,  —  that  we  are  to  look  for  the  most  fruitful  results 
of  the  Lord's  youth  and  manhood  in  Nazareth  and  the  sur- 
rounding region.  In  this  rich  and  populous  province  the  civil- 
ized world  was  epitomized.  Jesus  had  never  travelled  as  did 
ancient  philo.sophers ;  but  he  had  probably  come  in  contact  more 
largely  with  various  human  nature  by  staying  at  home,  than 
they  had  by  going  abroad. 

The  village  of  Nazareth  had  a  bad  reputation.  This  is  shown 
in  the  surprised  question  of  Nathanael,  who,  being  a  resident  of 
Cana,  in  its  immediate  neighborhood,  undoubtedly  reflected  the 
popular  estimate,  "■  Can  any  good  thing  come  out  of  Nazareth  ? " 
This  question  incidentally  shows,  also,  that  our  Lord's  childliood 
had  not  been  one  of  portents  and  marvels,  and  had  not  ex- 
hibited any  such  singular  characteristics  as  to  create  in  the 
region  about  him  such  a  reputation  as  easily  grows  up  among 
ignorant  people  ai-ound  any  peculiarity  in  childhood.  Some- 
thing of  the  spirit  which  had  given  Nazareth  such  bad  repute 
shows  itself  on  the  occasion  of  our  Lord's  first  preaching  there, 
when,  as  the  application  of  his  discourse  was  closer  than  they 
liked,  the  people  offered  him  personal  violence,  showing  them 
to  be  unrestrained,  passionate,  and  bloodthirsty. 

The  town,  or  as  it  then  was,  the  village,  of  Nazareth  was  an 
exquisite  gem  in  a  noble  setting.  All  writers  grow  enthusiastic 
in  the  description  of  its  beauty,  —  a  beauty  which  contmues  to 
this  day.     Stanley,  in  part  quoting   Richardson,   says :    "  Fifteen 

• ^ -& 


#- -a 

CHILDHOOD   AND   RESIDENCE  AT  NAZARETH.  47 

gently  rounded  hills  seem  as  if  they  had  met  to  form  an  en- 
closure for  this  peaceful  basin.  They  rise  round  it  hke  the 
edge  of  a  shell,  to  guard  it  from  mtrusion.  It  is  a  rich  and 
beautiful  field  in  the  midst  of  these  green  hills,  aboiuiding  in  gay 
flowers,  in  fig-trees,  small  gardens,  hedges  of  the  prickly  pear; 
and  the  dense  rice-grass  affords  an  abundant  pasture."^ 

The  town  was  built  not  upon  the  summit,  but  upon  the  sides, 
of  a  high  hill.  The  basin  runs  from  northeast  to  southwest, 
and  it  is  from  its  western  slope  that  the  village  of  Nazareth 
looks  forth. 

It  must  needs  be  that,  in  his  boyhood  wanderings,  Jesus  often 
ascended  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  to  look  over  the  wide  scene  which 
opened  before  the  eye.  It  often  happens  that  the  finest  pano- 
ramas in  mountain  coimtries  are  not  those  seen  from  the  highest 
pomts.  The  peculiar  conformations  of  the  land  frequently  give 
to  comparatively  low  positions  a  view  both  wider  and  nobler 
than  is  obtained  from  a  fourfold  height.  The  hill  of  Nazareth 
yielded  a  view  not  equalled  in  Palestine,  —  surpassing  that  seen 
from  the  tojj  of  Tabor.  The  village  itself,  built  on  the  side  of 
one  of  the  hills  which  form  the  mile-long  basin,  was  four  hun- 
dred feet  below  the  summit,  and  was  so  much  shut  in  by  sur- 
rounding heights  that  it  had  but  little  outlook.  But  from  the 
hill-top  behind  the  village  one  looked  forth  upon  almost  the 
whole  of  Galilee, —  from  Lebanon,  and  from  Hermon,  alwaA's 
white  with  snow,  in  the  far  north  and  northeast,  do'svn  to  the 
lake  of  Gennesareth,  with  Hattin,  Tabor,  Little  Hennon,  GUboa, 
on  the  east  and  southeast ;  the  hills  of  Samaria  on  the  south ; 
Carmel  and  the  Mediterranean  Sea  on  the  southwest  and  west. 
Two  miles  south  of  the  village  of  Nazareth  stretched  clear  across 
the  breadth  of  Galilee  the  noblest  plain  of  Palestine,  —  Esdrae- 
lon  (which  name  is  but  a  modification  of  the  old  word  Jezreel), 
a  meadow-like  plain  with  an  undulating  surface,  or,  as  it  would 
be  called  in  our  Western  phrase,  a  rolling  prairie,  three  or  fom- 
miles  wide  at  its  widest,  and  about  fifteen  in  length. 

These  names  recall  some  of  the  most  romantic  and  critical 
events  of  the  old  Jewish  history.  The  places  were  identified 
with  the  patriarchs,  the  judges,  the  prophets,  and  the  kings  of 
Israel.     Across  the  great  plain  of  Jezreel  the  tide  of  battle  has 

'  Sinai  and  Palestine,  p.  357. 

^ ^ 


^ -a 

48  TIf£  LIFE    OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

not  ceased  to  flow,  age  after  age ;  the  Midianite,  the  Amalekite, 
the  Syrian,  the  PhiUstme,  each  in  turn  rushed  through  this  open 
gate  among  the  hills,  alternately  conquering  and  conquered. 
Its  modern  history  has  made  good  its  ancient  experience.  It 
has  been  the  battle-field  of  ages ;  and  the  threat  of  war  so 
continually  hangs  over  it,  that,  while  it  is  the  richest  and  most 
fruitful  part  of  Palestine,  there  is  not  to-day  an  inhabited  city 
or  village  in  its  whole  extent. 

The  beauty  of  all  this  region  in  the  spring  and  early  sum- 
mer gives  rise  to  endless  praise  from  travellers.  It  may  be 
doubted  whether  this  scene  does  not  owe  much  to  local  contrast, 
and  whether,  if  it  were  transported  to  England  or  to  America, 
where  moisture  is  perpetual,  and  a  kinder  sun  stimulates  but 
seldom  scorches,  it  would  maintain  its  reputation.  But  in  one 
respect,  probably,  it  excels  all  foreign  contrasts,  and  that  is,  in 
the  variety,  succession,  and  brilliancy  of  its  flowers.  The  fields 
fairly  glow  with  colors,  which  change  every  month,  and  only 
in  August  disappear  from  the  plain ;  and  even  then,  retreating 
to  the  cool  ravines  and  edges  of  the  mountains,  they  bloom  on. 
The  region  .swarms  with  singing-birds  of  every  plumage,  besides 
countless  flocks  of  birds  for  game.^ 

The  whole  of  Galilee  is  to  every  modern  traveller  made  pro- 
foundly interesting  by  the  life  of  Christ,  which  was  so  largely 
spent  in  it.  But  no  thoughtful  mind  can  help  asking.  What 
did  it  do  to  him? 

Of  this  the  Gospels  are  silent.  No  record  is  made  of  his 
youthful  tastes,  or  of  his  manhood  pursuits.  We  are  unwilling 
to  believe  that  he  never  ascended  the  hill  to  look  out  over  the 
noble  panorama,  and  still  less  are  we  willing  to  believe   that  he 

'  Professor  J.  L.  Porter,  in  Kitto's  Biblical  Encijdopcedia  (Art.  "  GalUee")  says  :  "  Lower 
Galilee  was  a  land  of  husbandmen,  famed  for  its  corn-fields,  as  Upper  Galilee  was  for  its 
olive-groves  and  Judaja  for  its  vineyards.  The  rich  soil  remains,  and  there  are  still  some 
fruitful  fields ;  but  its  inhabitants  are  few  in  number,  and  its  choicest  plains  are  desolated 
by  the  wild  Bedouin.  Galilee  was  and  is  also  remarkable  for  the  variety  and  beauty  of  its 
wild  flowers.  In  early  spring  the  whole  •country  is  spangled  with  them,  and  the  air  is 
filled  with  theii-  odors.  Birds,  too,  are  exceedingly  numerous.  The  rocky  banks  are 
all  alive  with  partridges ;  the  meadows  swarm  with  quails  and  larks ;  '  the  voice  of  the 
turtle '  resounds  through  every  grove ;  and  pigeons  are  heard  cooing  high  up  in  the  clilfs 
and  o-len-sides,  and  are  seen  in  flocks  hovering  over  the  corn-fields.  The  writer  has  trav- 
elled through  Galilee  at  various  seasons,  and  has  always  been  struck  with  some  new 
beauty ;  the  delicate  verdure  of  spring,  and  its  blush  of  flowers,  the  mello%v  tints  of  autumn, 
and  the  russet  hues  of  the  oak-forests  in  winter,  have  all  their  charms." 

^ -4= 


CHILDHOOD  AND  RESIDENCE  AT  NAZARETH  49 

beheld  all  that  was  there  without  sensibility,  or  even  with  only 
an  ordinary  human  sensitiveness  to  nature.  We  cannot  doubt 
that  he  beheld  the  scenes  with  a  grander  impulse  than  man  ever 
knew.  He  was  in  his  own  world.  "All  things  were  made  by 
him ;  and  without  him  Avas  not  anything  made  that  was  made." 
But  whether  this  knowledge  existed  during  his  childhood,  or 
whether  he  came  to  the  full  recognition  of  his  prior  relations 
to  the  world  gradually  and  only  in  the  later  years  of  his  life, 
may  be  surmised,  but  cannot  be  knoAvii. 

It  is  certain  that  the  general  statements  which  have  recently 
been  made,  respecting  the  influence  of  Nazareth  and  its  sur- 
roundings upon  the  unfolding  of  his  genius,  are  without  either 
positive  historic  evidence  or  any  internal  evidence  to  be  found 
in  his  discourses,  conversations,  and  parables. 

The  slightest  study  of  our  Lord's  discourses  will  show  that 
he  made  almost  no  use  of  nature,  as  such,  in  his  thoughts  and 
teachings.  He  had  in  his  hands  the  writings  of  the  old  proph- 
ets of  his  nation,  and  he  was  famUiar  with  their  contents.  In 
them  he  beheld  all  the  aspects  of  nature,  whatever  was  sublime, 
and  whatever  was  beautiful,  employed  to  enforce  the  lessons  of 
morality  with  a  power  and  poetic  beauty  Avhich  had  then  no 
parallel,  and  which  have  since  had  no  rival.  But  there  would 
seem  to  have  been  in  his  OAvn  use  of  language  a  striking  avoid- 
ance of  the  style  of  the  prophets.  In  the  employment  of  nat- 
ural objects,  no  contrast  can  be  imagined  greater  than  that 
between  the  records  of  the  Evangelists  and  the  j^ages  of  Isaiah, 
Jeremiah,  Habakkuk,  and  the  Psalmists.  Our  Lord  never  drew 
illustrations  from  original  and  wild  nature,  but  from  nature  after 
it  had  felt  the  hand  of  man.  Human  occupations  furnish  the 
staple  of  his  parables  and  illustrations.  It  was  the  city  set 
upon  a  hill  that  our  Lord  selected,  not  the  high  hill  itself,  or  a 
mountain ;  vines  and  iig-trocs,  but  not  the  cedars  of  Lebanon, 
nor  the  oaks.  The  plough,  the  yoke,  the  seed-sowing,  the  har- 
vest-field, flocks  of  sheep,  bargains,  coin.s,  magistrates,  courts  of 
justice,  domestic  scenes,  —  these  are  the  preferred  images  in 
our  Saviour's  discourses.  And  yet  he  had  been  brought  up  in 
sight  of  the  Mediterranean  Sea ;  for  thirty  years,  at  a  few  steps 
from  his  home,  he  might  have  looked  on  Mount  Hermon,  lifted 
up  in   solitude  above  the  reach  of  summer ;    the  history  of   his 

^ ^ 


^ -a 

50  'rUE  LIFE   OF  JFSUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

people  was  identified  with  Tabor,  with  Mount  Gilboa,  with  Ebal 
and  Gerizim,  —  but  ho  made  no  use  of  them.  The  very  changes 
which  war  had  wi'ought  upon  the  face  of  the  country,  —  the 
destruction  of  forests,  the  diying  up  of  springs  of  water,  the 
breaking  down  of  terraces,  the  waste  of  soil,  and  the  destruction 
of  vineyards,  —  were  striking  analogies  of  the  effects  of  the  pas- 
sions upon  human  nature.  Yet  no  allusion  is  made  to  these 
things.  There  are  in  the  Gospel  narratives  no  waves,  clouds, 
storms,  lions,  eagles,  mountains,  forests,  plains.^ 

The  lilies  and  the  sparrows  and  the  reed  shaken  by  the  wind 
are  the  only  purely  natural  objects  which  he  uses.  For  water 
and  light  (with  the  one  exception  of  lightning)  are  employed  in 
their  relations  of  utility.  The  illustration  of  the  setting  sun 
(Matt.  xvi.  2)  is  but  the  quotation  of  a  common  proverlj.  The 
Jordan  was  the  one  great  historic  stream:  it  is  not  alluded  to. 
The  cities  that  were  once  on  the  plain,  Sodom  and  Gomorrah, 

'  A\nien  Moses  would  show  God's  tender  care  of  Israel,  it  was  tlie  eaple  tliat  repre- 
sented God.  "  As  an  eagle  stirreth  up  her  nest,  fluttereth  over  her  young,  sjircadeth 
ahroad  her  wings,  takcth  them,  beareth  them  on  her  wings ;  so  the  Lord  alone  did  le.ad 
lii.n."     (Dcut.  xxii.   II,  12.) 

The  profound  care  of  our  Lord  was  represented  by  him  in  the  figure  of  a  bird,  but 
taken  from  husbandry.  "  How  often  would  I  have  gathered  thy  eliildren  together,  exen 
as  a  hen  doth  gather  her  brood  under  her  wings,  and  ye  would  not ! " 

The  same  contrast  e.xists  in  the  employment  of  illustrations  drawn  from  the  floral  king- 
dom. Had  Ruskin  been  writing,  instead  of  Solomon,  ho  could  not  have  shown  a  rarer  in- 
tiinaev  with  flowers  than  is  exhibited  in  Solomon's  Songs.  "  I  am  the  rose  of  Sharon, 
and  the  lily  of  the  valleys.  As  the  lily  among  thorns,  so  is  my  love  among  daughters. 
As  the  apple-tree  among  the  trees  of  the  wood,  so  is  my  beloved  among  the  sons."  '•  My 
beloved  spake,  and  said  unto  me.  Rise  up,  my  love,  my  fair  one,  and  come  away.  For 
lo,  the  winter  is  past,  the  rain  is  over  and  gone ;  the  flowers  appear  on  the  earth ;  the  time 
of  the  singing  of  birds  is  come  and  the  voice  of  the  turtle  [dove]  is  heard  in  our  land. 
The  fig-tree  putteth  forth  her  green  figs,  and  the  vines  with  the  tender  grape  give  a 
goodly  smell "     In  this  joyous  sympathy  with  nature,  the  Song  flows  on  like   a  brook 

fringed  with  meadow-flowers.     "  A  garden  enclosed  is  my  sister,  my  spouse Thy 

plants  are  an  orchard  of  pomegranates,  with  pleasant  fruits;  camphire,  with  spikenard. 
Spikenard  and  saffron  ;  calamus  and  cinnamon,  with  all  trees  of  frankincense ;  myrrh, 
and  aloes,  with  all  the  chief  spices :  a  fountain  of  gardens,  a  well  of  living  waters,  and 
streams  from  Lebanon.  Awake,  O  north  wind;  and  come,  thou  south,  blow  upon  my 
garden,  that  the  spices  thereof  may  flow  out." 

Tlie  single  instance,  in  the  Gospels,  of  an  allusion  to  flowers  is  remarkably  enough  in 
reference  to  this  very  Solomon  whose  words  we  have  just  quoted.  "  Consider  the  lilies 
of  the  field,  how  they  grow;  they  toil  not,  neither  do  they  spin;  and  yet  I  say  unto  you, 
that  even  Solomon  in  all  his  glory  was  not  arra}ed  like  one  of  these." 

The  affluence  and  splendor  of  illustrations,  in  the  Old  Testament,  drawn  from  the  poetic 
side  of  nature,  and  in  contrast  with  the  lower  tone  and  the  domesticity  of  New  Testament 
figures,  will  be  apparent  upon  the  slightest  comparison. 

^ ^ J 


QHILDHOOD  AND  RESIDENCE  AT  NAZARETH.  51 

are  held  up  in  solemn  warning  ;  but  that  most  hnpressive  moral 
symbol,  the  Dead  Sea  itself,  Christ  did  not  mention.  We  must 
not  allow  oiu"  thoughts  to  suppose  that  the  Lord's  soul  did  not 
see  or  feel  that  natural  beauty  which  he  had  himself  created 
and  which  he  had  through  ages  reproduced  with  each  year.  The 
reasons  why  his  teaching  should  be  unadorned  and  simple  are 
not  hard  to  find.  The  literary  styles  which  are  most  univer- 
sally attractive,  and  which  are  least  subject  to  the  capricious 
change  of  popular  taste,  are  those\  which  are  rich  in  material, 
but  transparently  simple  in  form.  Much  as  men  admire  the 
grandeur  of  the  prophets,  they  dwell  on  the  words  of  Christ 
with  a  more  natural  companionship  and  far  more  enduring  sat- 
isfoction. 

Although  it  is  not  expressly  said  that  Christ  followed  his 
father's  trade,  yet  Mark  represents  the  disaffected  people  of 
Nazareth,  on  the  occasion  of  an  unpopular  sennon,  as  saj'ing 
of  Jesus,  "Is  not  this  the  carpenter?"     (Mark  vi.  3.) 

We  should  not  give  to  the  term  "cai-penter"  the  close  tech- 
nical meaning  which  it  has  in  our  day.  All  ti'ades,  as  society 
grows  in  civilization,  become  special,  each  single  department 
making  itself  into  a  trade.  Carving,  cabinetrmaking,  joinery, 
carpentry,  wooden-tool  making,  domestic-ware  manufacturing, 
tinkering,  are  each  a  sub-trade  by  itself  But  in  our  Lord's 
day,  as  it  is  yet  in  Palestine,  they  were  all  included  in  one 
business.  The  carpenter  was  a  universal  worker  in  wood.  He 
built  houses  or  fences,  he  made  agricultui'al  implements  or  tools, 
such  as  spades,  yokes,  ploughs,  etc.,  or  houseware,  chairs,  tables, 
tubs,  etc.  Carving  is  a  favorite  part  of  the  wood-worker's  busi- 
ness in  the  East  to-day,  and  prol^ably  was  so  in  ancient  times. 
Justin  Martyr  says  that  Jesus  made  yokes  and  ploughs,  and  he 
spiritualizes  them  as  symbols  of  obedience  and  activity.  Even 
had  Christ  been  brought  up  to  wealth  as  he  was  to  poverty, 
there  would  be  no  reason  why  he  should  not  have  learned  a 
mechanical  trade.  In  this,  as  in  so  many  other  respects,  the 
Jewish  people  were  in  prudence  greatly  in  advance  of  the  then 
civilized  world.  It  was  not  only  deemed  not  disgraceful  to  learn 
some  manual  trade,  but  a  parent  was  not  thought  to  have  done 
well  by  his  child's  education  Avho  had  not  taught  him  how  to 
earn  a  living  by  his  hands.     But  in  Joseph's  case,  little  other 

i^ ^ 


[fl- 


52 


THE  LIFE    OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 


education,  it  is  probable,  had  he  the  means  of  giving  his  son. 
John  records  the  surprise  of  the  scholars  of  the  Temple  upon 
occasion  of  one  of  Christ's  discourses:  "The  Jews  marvelled, 
saying,  How  knoweth  this  man  letters,  having  never  learned?" 
The  term  "  letters "  was  used,  as  it  still  is,  to  signify  literatm-e, 
and  in  this  case  religious  literature,  as  the  Jews  had  no  other. 
There  is  no  evidence  in  the  Lord's  discourse  that  the  occupa- 
tions of  his  3-outh  had  an^^  special  influence  upon  his  thoughts 
or  imao-ination.  He  made  no  allusion  to  tools,  he  drew  no  illus- 
trations from  the  processes  of  construction,  he  said  nothing  which 
would  suggest  that  he  had  wrought  with  hammer  or  saw. 

More  attractive  to  the  heart  are  the  probable  influences  of 
home.  It  will  always  make  home  more  sacred  to  men,  that 
the  Lord  Jesus  was  reared  by  a  mother,  in  the  ordinary  life  of 
the  household.  For  children,  too,  there  is  a  Saviour,  who  was  in 
all  things  made  like  unto  them. 


■a 


TEMPLE-rORCH. 


Sacred  history  makes  everything  of  Mary,  and  nothing  of 
Joseph.  It  is  taken  for  granted  that  it  was  with  his  mother 
that  Jesus  held  most  intimate  communion.  The  adoration  of  the 
Virgin  by  the  Romish  Church  has  doubtless  contril)uted  largely 
to  this  belief.  There  is  nothing  improbable  in  it.  But  it  is  pure 
supposition.  There  is  not  a  trace  of  any  facts  to  support  it. 
Though  an  ordinary  child  to  others,  that  Jesus  was  to  his  par- 
ents a  child  of  wonder  can  scarcely  be  doubted.  Such  mani- 
festations of  his  nature  as  broke  forth  at  twelve  years  of  age 
in  the  Temple  scene  must  have  shown  themselves  at  other  times 
in   various  wa^'S   at  home.     Yet   so  entirely  are   our  minds   ab- 


^ 


^ — -^ 

CHILDHOOD  AND  RESIDENCE  AT  NAZARETH.  53 

sorbod  in  his  later  teachings,  and  so  wholly  is  his  life  summed 
lip  to  us  in  the  three  years  of  his  ministry,  that  we  are  not 
accustomed  to  recall  and  fill  out  his  youth  as  we  do  hLs  riper 
years.  Who  imagines  the  boy  Jesus  going  or  coming  at  com- 
mand,—  leaving  home,  with  his  tools,  for  his  daily  work,  —  lift- 
ing timber,  laying  the  line,  scribing  the  pattern,  fitting  and  fin- 
ishing the  job,  —  bargaining  for  work,  demanding  and  receiving 
his  wages,  —  conversing  with  fellow-woi-kmen,  and  mingling  in 
their  innocent  amusements?  Yet  must  not  all  these  things  have 
been  ?  We  must  carry  along  with  us  that  interpreting  sentence, 
which  like  a  refrain  should  come  in  with  every  strain:  "In  all 
things  it  behooved  him  to  be  made  lilve  unto  liis  brethren." 
(Heb.  ii.  17.) 

In  the  synagogue  and  at  home  he  would  become  familiar  witli 
the  Scriptures  of  the  Old  Testament.  This  itself  was  no  insig- 
nificant education.  The  institutes  of  Moses  were  rich  in  polit- 
ical wisdom.  They  have  not  yet  expended  their  force.  The 
commonwealth  established  in  the  Desert  has  long  ceased,  but  its 
seeds  have  been  sown  in  other  continents ;  and  the  spirit  of 
democracy  which  to-day  is  gaining  ascendency  in  every  land 
has  owed  more  to  the  Mosaic  than  to  any  other  political  insti- 
tution. 

The  Saviour's  discourses  show  that  his  mind  was  peculiarly 
adapted  to  read  the  Book  of  Proverbs  with  keen  relish.  Under 
his  eye  the  practical  wisdom  of  those  curt  sentences,  the  in- 
sight into  men's  motives  which  they  give,  those  shrewd  lessons 
of  experience,  must  have  had  a  larger  interpretation  than  they 
were  wont  to  receive.  If  one  has  observed  how  the  frigid 
annals  of  history,  when  Shakespeare  read  them,  blossomed  out 
into  wonderful  dramas,  he  can  partly  imagine  what  Solomon's 
philosophy  must  have  become   under  the  eye  of  Jesus. 

He  lived  in  the  very  sight  of  places  made  memorable  by  the 
deeds  of  his  country's  greatest  men.  If  he  sat,  on  still  Sabbaths, 
upon  the  hill-top, — childlike,  alternately  watching  and  musing, — 
he  must  at  times  have  seen  the  shadoAvy  forms  and  heard  the 
awful  tones  of  those  extraordinary  men,  the  Hebrew  prophets. 
There  was  before  him  Gilboa,  on  which  Samuel's  shadow  came 
to  Saul  and  overthrew  him.  Across  these  plains  and  over  thetr"? 
solitary  mountains,  Elijah,  that  grandest  and  most  dramatic  of 

^ — -# 


a ^ 

54  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

tlie  old  prophets,  had  often  come,  and  dit^appeared  as  soon, 
bearing  the  Lord's  messages,  as  the  summer  storm  bears  the 
hghtning.  He  could  see  the  very  spots  where  Elisha,  pi'ophet 
of  the  gentle  heart,  had  wrought  kind  miracles. 

The  sword  of  David  had  flashed  over  these  plains.  But  it  is 
David's  harp  that  has  conquered  the  world,  and  his  psalms  must 
have  been  the  channels  through  which  the  soul  of  Jesus  often 
found  its  way  back  to  his  Heavenly  Father.  Not  even  in  his 
youth  are  we  to  suppose  that  Jesus  received  unquestioning  the 
Avritings  of  the  holy  men  of  his  nation.  He  had  come  to  inspire 
a  loftier  morality  than  belonged  to  the  twilight  of  the  past. 
How  early  he  came  to  himself,  and  felt  within  him  the  motions 
of  his  Godhood,  none  can  tell.  At  twelve  he  overrode  the  in- 
terpretations of  the  doctors,  and,  as  one  having  authority,  sat 
in  judgment  upon  the  imperfect  religion  of  his  ancestors.  This 
first  visit  to  Jerusalem  stands  up  in  his  childhood  as  Mount 
Tabor  rises  from  the  plain,  —  the  one  solitary  point  of  definite 
record. 

At  twelve,  the  Jewish  children  were  reckoned  in  the  congre- 
gation and  made  their  appearance  at  the  great  annual  feasts. 
Roads  were  unknown.  Along  paths,  on  foot,  —  the  feeble  carried 
upon  mules,  —  the  people  made  then-  Avay  by  easy  stages  toward 
the  beloved  city.  At  each  step  new-comers  fell  into  the  ever- 
swelling  stream.  Relatives  met  one  another,  friends  renewed 
acquaintance,  and  strangers  soon  lost  strangeness  in  hospitable 
company.  Had  it  been  an  Anglo-Saxon  pilgrimage,  all  Palestine 
would  scarcely  have  held  the  baggage-train  of  a  race  that,  instead 
of  making  a  home  everywhere,  seek  everywhere  to  carry  their 
home  with  them.  Tlie  abstemious  habits  of  the  Orientals  re- 
quired but  a  slender  stock  of  provisions  and  no  cumbering  bag- 
gage. They  sang  their  sacred  songs  at  morning  and  evening, 
and  on  the  way.  Thus  one  might  hear  the  last  notes  of  one 
chant  dying  in  the  valley  as  the  first  note  of  another  rose  upon 
the  hill,  and  song  answered  to  song,  and  echoed  all  along  the 
pleasant  way. 

We  can  imagine  group  after  group  coming  at  evening  into 
the  valley  of  Samaria,  —  guarded  by  Gerizim  and  Ebal,  —  begin- 
ning to  feel  the  presence  of  those  mountain  forms  which  con- 
tinue all  the  way  to  Jerusalem,  and  chanting  these  words:  — 

^ ^ ^ 


fi- = =-a 

CHILDHOOD  AND  RESIDENCE  AT  NAZARETH.  55 

"  I  will  lift  lip  mine  eyes  unto  the  lulls, 

From  whence  cometh  my  help. 

My  help  cometh  from  the  Lord, 

AVhich  made  heaven  and  earth. 

He  will  not  suHer  thy  foot  to  be  moved : 

He  that  keepeth  thee  will  not  slumber. 

Behold,  he  that  keepeth  Israel 

Shall  neither  slumber  nor  sleep. 

The  Lord  is  thy  keeper ; 

Tlie  Lord  is  thy  shade  upon  thy  right  hand. 

The  sun  shall  not  smite  thee  by  day. 

Nor  the  moon  l)y  night. 

The  Lord  shall  preserve  thee  from  all  evil : 

He  shall  preserve  thy  soul. 

The  Lord  shall  preserve  thy  goino-  out, 

And  thy  coming  in. 

From  this  time  forth. 

And  even  forevermore." 

Ilefre.slied  by  sleep,  breaking  up  their  simple  camp,  the  min- 
gled throng  at  early  morning  start  forth  again.  A  voice  is  heard 
chanting  a  psalm.  It  is  caught  up  by  others.  The  whole  region 
resounds.      And  these  are  the  words  :  — 

"  I  was  glad  when  they  said  unto  me. 
Let  us  go  into  the  house  of  the  Lord. 
Our  feet  shall  stand 
Within  thy  gates,  O  Jerusalem ! 
Jerusalem  is  builded 
As  a  city  that  is  compact  together : 
"Wliither  the  tribes  go  up,  the  tribes  of  the  Lord, 
Unto  the  testimony  of  Israel, 
To  give  thanks  unto  the  name  of  the  Lord. 
For  there  are  set  thrones  of  judgment, 
The  thrones  of  the  house  of  David. 
Pray  for  the  peace  of  Jerusalem  : 
Tliey  shall  prosper  that  love  thee. 
Peace  be  within  thy  walls, 
And  prosperity  within  thy  palaces. 
For  my  brethren  and  comjianions*  sakes 
I  will  now  say.  Peace  be  within  thee 
Because  of  the  house  of  the  Lord  our  God 
I  will  seek  thy  good." 

The  festival  over,  the  mighty  city  and  all  its  environs  sent 
back  the  worshippers  to  their  homes.  It  had  been  a  religious 
festival,  but  not  the  less  an  unconstrained  social  picnic.  How 
freely  they  mingled  with  each  other,  group  Avith  group,  is  shown 
ui  the  flict  that  Joseph  and  Mary  had  gone  a  day's  journey  on 

^ . ^ 


0- -a 

56  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST 

the  road  home  before  they  missed  their  child.  This  could  not 
have  been,  Avere  it  not  customary  for  the  parties  often  to  break 
up  and  mingle  in  new  combinations.  "  But  they,  supposing  him 
to  have  been  in  the  company,  went  a  day's  journey."  It  is  plain, 
then,  that  at  twelve  years  of  age  Jesus  had  outgrown  the  con- 
stant watch  of  his  parents'  eyes,  and  had  assumed  a  degree  of 
manly  liberty. 

They  turned  back.  It  was  three  days  before  they  found  him. 
One  day  was  required  by  the  backward  journey.  Two  days  they 
must  have  wandered  in  and  about  the  city,  anxiously  enough. 
In  the  last  place  in  which  they  dreamed  of  looking,  they  found 
him,  —  '■  in  the  temple,  sitting  in  the  midst  of  the  doctors,  both 
hearing  them,  and  asking  them  questions."  Christ's  questions 
Avere  always  like  spears  that  pierced  the  joints  of  the  harness. 
It  seems  that  even  so  early  he  had  begun  to  wield  this  weapon. 

AVhat  part  of  these  three  days  Jesus  had  spent  at  the  Temple, 
we  are  not  told.  But  we  may  be  sure  that  it  was  a  refreshing 
time  in  that  dull  circle  of  doctors.  An  ingenuous  youth,  frank, 
and  not  hackneyed  by  the  conventional  ways  of  the  world,  with 
a  living  soul  and  a  quick  genius,  is  always  a  foscinating  object, 
and  perhaps  even  more  to  men  who  have  grown  stiff  in  formal 
ways  than  to  others.  There  is  something  of  youthful  feeling 
and  of  fatherhood  yet  left  in  souls  that  for  fifty  years  have 
discussed  the  microscopic  atoms  of  nn  imaginary  philosophy. 
Besides,  where  there  are  five  doctors  of  philosophy  there  are  not 
less  than  five  opposing  schools,  and  in  this  case  each  learned 
man  must  needs  have  enjoyed  the.  palpable  hits  which  his  com- 
panions received  from  the  stripling.  The  people  who  stood 
about  would  have  a  heart  for  the  child :  what  crowd  would 
not?  And,  if  he  held  his  own  against  the  doctors  of  law,  all 
the  more  the  wonder  gi-ew.  It  is  not  necessary  to  suppose 
that  a  spiritual  chord  vibrated  at  his  touch  in  the  hearts  of  all 
this  circle  of  experts  in  Temple  dialectics.  Yet  we  would  fondly 
imagine  that  one  at  least  there  was  —  some  unnamed  Nicodemus, 
or  another  Joseph  of  Arimathea  —  who  felt  the  fire  bum  within 
him  as  this  child  spake.  Even  in  Sahara  there  are  found  green 
spots,  shaded  with  palms,  watered  and  fruitful.  There  might 
have  been  sweet-hearted  men  among  the  Jewish  doctors ! 

LLjion  this  strange  school,  in  which  the  pupil  Avas  the  teacher 

^ S 


[p- 


■a 


CHILDHOOD  AND  RESIDENCE  AT  NAZARETH. 

■m 


67 


lEMl'l.E    I.NTEKIOK. 


and  the  teachers  were  puzzled  schohirs,  came  at  length,  her 
serene  face  now  flushed  with  alarm,  the  mother  of  Jesus.  She, 
all  mother,  with  love's  reproach  said,  "  Son,  why  hast  thou  thus 
dealt  with  us?"  and  he,  all  inspii'ed  with  fast-coming  thoughts, 
answered,  "Wist  ye  not  that  I  must  be  about  my  Father's 
business  ?  " 

Not  yet!  This  ministry  of  youth  was  not  wholesome.  Pre- 
mature prodigies  have  never  done  God's  work  on  earth.  It 
would  have  pleased  the  appetite  for  wonder,  had  his  childhood 
continued  to  emit  such  flashes  as  came  forth  in  the  Temple. 
But  such  is  not  the  order  of  nature,  and  the  Son  of  God  had 
consented  to  be  "made  under  the  law."  It  is  plain,  from  his 
reply  to  his  mother,  that  he  was  conscious  of  the  nature  that 
was  in  him,  and  that  strong  impulses  urged  him  to  disclose  his 
power.  It  is  therefore  very  significant,  and  not  the  least  of  the 
signs  of  divinity,  that  he  ruled  his  spirit,  and  dwelt  at  home  in 
unmurmuring  expectation,  f  He  went  down  with  them,  and 
came  to  Nazareth,  and  was  subject  unto  them."  (Luke  ii.  51.) 
This  might  well  be  said  to  be  to  his  childhood  what  the  tempta- 


'S- 


^ 


[& 


58  THE  LIFE    OF  JFSUS,    THE    GHEIST 

tions  in  the  wiklerness  were  to  his  ministry.  The  modesty, 
the  filial  piety,  the  perfectness  of  self-control,  contentment  in 
mechanical  lahor,  conscions  sovereignty  undisclosed,  a  wealth  of 
natvu'e  kept  back,  —  in  short,  the  holding  of  his  whole  being  in 
tranquil  silence,  waiting  for  growth  to  produce  his  ripe  self,  and 
for  God,  his  Father,  to  shake  out  the  seed  which  was  to  become 
the  bread  of  the  world,  —  all  this  is  in  itself  a  wonder  of  divinity, 
if  men  were  only  wise  enough  to  marvel.  Christ's  greatest 
miracles  were  wrought  within  himself 

Li  a  review  of  the  childhood  of  Jesus,  there  are  several  points 
which  deserve  special  attention. 

1.  While  it  is  true  that,  by  incarnation,  the  Son  of  God  be- 
came subject  to  all  human  conditions,  and,  among  them,  to  the 
law  of  gradual  development,  by  which  "he  increased  in  wisdom 
and  stature." — for  ''the  child  greir,  and  waxed  strong  in  spirit," 
—  we  must  not  fall  into  the  error  of  supposing  that  Jesus  was 
moulded  l)y  the  circumstances  in  which  he  was  placed.  Not  his 
mother,  nor  the  scenery,  nor  the  national  associations,  nor  the 
occupations  of  his  thirty  years,  fashioned  him.  Only  natures 
of  a  lower  kind  are  shaped  by  circumstances.  Great  natures 
inifold  hy  the  force  of  that  which  is  within  them.  When  food 
noiu-ishes,  it  receives  the  power  to  do  so  Ijy  that  which  the  vital 
power  of  the  body  gives  it.  Food  does  not  give  life,  but  by 
assimilation  receives  it.  Christ  was  not  the  creation  of  his  age. 
We  may  trace  occasions  and  external  influences  of  which  he 
availed  himself,  but  his  origmal  nature  contained  in  its  germ 
all  that  he  was  to  lie,  and  needed  only  a  normal  mifolding. 

The  absolute  independence  from  all  external  formative  influ- 
ence, and  the  sovereignty  of  the  essential  self,  was  never  so  sub- 
limely asserted  as  when  Jehovah  declared,  '"  I  am  that  I  am." 
But,  without  extravagance  or  immodesty,  the  mother  of  Jesus 
might  have  written  this  divine  legend  upon  his  cradle. 

2.  We  have  said  nothing  of  the  brothers  and  sisters  of  our 
Lord.  They  are  not  only  mentioned,  but  the  names  of  his 
Ijrothers  are  given,  and  allusions  are  made  to  them  in  several 
instances.^  Yet  the  matter  does  not  prove  upon  examination  to 
be  as  simple  as  at  first  sight  it  seems. 

'  Matt.  -xii.  46  ;  xiii.  ho.    jMark  iii.  31 ;  vi.  3.    Luke  viii.  1 9.    Julm  ii.  1 2  ;  vii.  3.    Acts  i.  14. 


ft 


ip- -a 

CHILDHOOD  AND  RESIDENCE  AT  NAZARETH.  59 

TJndoul)tedly,  it  suited  the  peculiar  ideas  which  were  early 
developed  in  the  Church,  to  consider  Jesus  not  only  the  first- 
born, but  the  only,  child  of  Mary.  But  there  are  real  and  in- 
trinsic difficulties  in  the  case.  The  term  brethren  was  often 
used  in  the  general  sense  of  relative.  To  this  day  authorities 
of  the  highest  repute  are  divided  in  opinion,  and  in  about 
equal  proportions  on  each  side.  There  are  several  suppositions 
concerning  these  brothers  and  sisters :  They  were  the  children 
of  Joseph  by  a  former  marriage ;  or,  they  were  adopted  from 
a  deceased  brother's  family ;  or,  they  were  the  children  of  a 
sister  of  the  mother  of  Jesus,  and  so  cousins-german  to  him ; 
or,  they  were  the  children  of  Joseph  and  Mar}-,  and  so  the 
real  brothers  of  Jesus.  We  shall  not  enter  upon  the  argu- 
ment.^ The  chief  point  of  interest  is  not  m  doubt:  namelj', 
that  our  Lord  was  not  brought  up  alone  m  a  household  as  an 
only  child  ;  that  he  was  a  child  among  children ;  that  he  was 
surromided  by  those  who  were  to  him,  either  really  his  own 
brothers  and  sistei's,  or  just  the  same  in  sentiment.  He  had 
this  ordinary  experience  of  childhood.  The  unconscious  babe  in 
the  cradle  has  a  Saviour  who  once  was  as  sweetly  helpless  as 
it  is.  The  prattling  child  is  passing  along  that  path  over  which 
the  infant  footprints  of  Jesus  wei'e  marked.  The  later  friend- 
ships of  brothers  and  sisters  derive  a  sacred  influence  from 
the  love  which  Jesus  bore  to  his  sisters  while  growing  iip  with 
them.  There  is  thus  an  example  for  the  household,  and  a  gos- 
pel for  the  nursery,  in  the  life  of  Jesus,  as  well  as  an  "  ensample  " 
in  his  manhood  for  the  riper  years  of  men. 

3.  While  we  do  not  mean  to  raise  and  discuss,  in  this  work, 
the  many  difficulties  which  are  peculiar  to  critics,  there  is  one 
connected  with  this  period  of  our  Lord's  life  which  we  shall 
mention,  for  the  sake  of  laj-ing  down  certain  principles  which 
should  guide  us  in  reading  the  Sacred  Scriptures. 

Matthew  declares  that  "  he  came  and  dAvelt  in  a  city  called 
Nazareth:  that  it  might  be  fulfilled  which  was  spoken  b}-  the 
prophets.  He  shall  be  called  a  Nazarene."  No  such  line  has 
ever  been  found  in  the  prophets. 

Infinite  ingenuity  of  learning  has  been  brought  to  bear  upon 


'  Those  who  desire  to  investigate  the  matter  may  see  Andrews's  very  clear  and  judicial 
estimate  of  the  case  (JLife  of  our  Lord,  p.  104)  ;  also,  Laiige,  Life  of  Christ,  Vol.  I.  p.  421. 


CB- 


i 


60  THE  LIFE    OF  JESUS,    THE  CHRIST. 

this  difficulty,  without  in  the  slightest  degree  solving  it.  It  is 
said  that  the  tenn  "  Nazareth "  is  derived  from  ndzer,  a  sprout, 
as  the  region  around  Nazareth  is  covered  with  bushes ;  and  by 
coupling  this  with  Isaiah  xi.  1,  where  the  Messiah  is  predicted 
under  the  name  of  a  Branch,  the  connection  is  established. 
That  Matthew,  the  most  literal  and  unimaginative  of  all  the 
Evangelists,  should  have  betaken  himself  to  such  a  subtle  trick 
of  language,  would  not  surprise  us  had  he  lived  in  England  in 
Shakespeare's  time.  But  as  he  wrote  to  Jews  who  did  not 
believe  that  Christ  was  the  Messiah,  we  should,  by  adopting  this 
play  on  words,  only  change  the  verbal  difficulty  into  a  psycho- 
logical one  still  more  vexatious. 

Others  have  supposed  that  Matthew  referred  to  some  apoc- 
ryphal book,  or  to  some  prophec}^  now  lost.  This  is  worse  than 
ingenious.  It  is  perverse.  The  Old  Testament  canon  was,  and 
had  long  been,  complete  when  Matthew  wrote.  What  evidence 
is  there  that  anything  had  ever  been  dropped  from  it,  —  or 
that  any  apocryphal  book  had  ever  existed,  containing  this  sen- 
tence ?  Is  our  faith  in  the  inspired  record  helped  or  hindered 
by  the  introduction  of  such  groundless  fancies  ?  The  difficulty 
of  the  text  is  not  half  so  dangerous  as  is  such  a  liberty  taken  in 
explainmg  it.  Others  of  this  ingenious  band  of  scholars  derive 
the  name  Nazai'ene  from  notzer,  that  which  guards.  Others 
think  that  it  is  from  netzer,  to  separate,  as  if  the  Messiah  were 
to  be  a  Nazar//<',  which  he  was  not ;  nor  was  it  anywhere  in  the 
Old  Testament  predicted  that  he  should  be.  Lange  supposes 
that,  already  when  Matthew  wrote,  Nazarene  had  become  a  term 
of  such  universal  reproach,  as  to  be  equivalent  to  the  general 
representations  of  the  prophets  that  the  Messiah  should  be  de- 
spised and  rejected,  and  that  it  might  even  be  interchangeable 
with  them.  The  whole  ground  of  this  explanation  is  an  assump- 
tion. That  Nazarene  was  a  term  of  reproach,  is  very  likely,  but 
that  it  had  become  a  generic  epithet  for  humiliation,  rejection, 
scorn,  persecution,  and  all  maltreatment,  is  nowhere  evident, 
and  not  at  all  probable. 

But  what  would  happen  if  it  should  be  said  that  Matthew 
recorded  the  current  impression  of  his  time  in  attributing  this 
declaration  to  the  Old  Testament  prophets  ?  "Would  a  mere 
error  of  reference  invalidate  the  trustworthiness  of  the  Evan- 

^ -# 


a- — 

CHILDHOOD  AND   RESIDENCE   AT  NAZARETH.  61 

gelist?  We  lean  our  whole  weight  upon  men  who  are  fallible. 
Must  a  record  be  totally  infallible  before  it  can  be  trusted  at 
all  ?  Navigators  trust  ship,  cargo,  and  the  lives  of  all  on  board, 
to  calculations  based  on  tables  of  logarithms,  knowing  that  there 
was  never  a  set  computed,  without  machinery,  that  had  not 
some  errors  in  it.  The  supposition,  that  to  admit  that  there  are 
immaterial  and  incidental  mistakes  in  the  Sacred  Writ  would 
break  the  confidence  of  men  in  it,  is  contradicted  by  the  uni- 
form experience  of  hfe,  and  by  the  whole  procedure  of  society. 

On  the  contrary,  the  shifts  and  ingenuities  to  which  critics  are 
obliged  to  resort  either  blunts  the  sense  of  truth,  or  diso-usts 
men  with  the  special  pleading  of  critics,  and  tends  powerfully  to 
general  unbelief 

The  theory  of  Inspiration  must  be  founded  upon  the  claims 
which  the  Scriptures  themselves  make.  "All  Scripture  is  given 
by  inspiration  of  God,  and  is  profitable  for  doctrine,  for  reproof, 
for  correction,  for  instruction  in  righteousness ;  that  the  man  of 
God  may  be  perfect,  thoroughly  furnished  mito  all  good  works." 
(2  Tim.  iii.  16,  17.) 

Under  this  declaration,  no  more  can  be  claimed  for  the  doc- 
trine of  Inspiration  than  that  there  shall  have  been  such  an 
influence  exerted  ujjon  the  formation  of  the  record  that  it  shall 
be  the  truth  respecting  God,  and  no  falsity ;  that  it  shall  so  ex- 
pound the  duty  of  man  under  God's  moral  government,  as  to 
secure,  in  all  who  will,  a  true  holiness ;  that  it  shall  contain  no 
errors  which  can  affect  the  essential  truths  taught,  or  which  shall 
cloud  the  reason  or  sully  the  moral  sense. 

But  it  is  not  right  or  prudent  to  infer,  from  the  Biblical 
statement  of  mspiration,  that  it  makes  provision  for  the  very 
words  and  sentences ;  that  it  shall  raise  the  inspired  penmen 
above  the  possibility  of  literary  inaccurac}',  or  minor  and  im- 
material mistakes.  It  is  enough  if  the  Bible  be  a  sure  and  suffi- 
cient guide  to  spiritual  morality  and  to  rational  piety.  To  erect 
for  it  a  claim  to  absolute  literary  infallibilit}-,  or  to  infallibility 
in  things  not  directly  pertaining  to  fiiith,  is  to  weaken  its  real 
authority,  and  to  turn  it  aside  from  its  avowed  purpose.  The 
theory  of  verbal  inspiration  brings  a  strain  upon  the  Word  of 
God  which  it  cannot  bear.  If  rigorously  pressed,  it  tends  power- 
fully to  bigotry  on  the  one  side  and  to  infidelity  on  the  other. 

^ -^ 


a ^ -^ 

62  Tffi:  LIFE    OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

The  inspiration  of  holy  men  is  to  be  construed  as  we  do  the 
doctrine  of  an  overruling  and  sjDecial  Providence  ;  of  the  divine 
supervision  and  guidance  of  the  Church  ;  of  the  faithfulness  of 
God  in  answering  prayer.  The  truth  of  these  doctrines  is  not 
inconsistent  with  the  existence  of  a  thousand  evils,  mischiefs, 
and  mistakes,  and  with  the  occurrence  of  wanderings  long  and 
almost  fatal.  Yet,  the  general  supervision  of  a  Divine  Provi- 
dence is  rational.  We  might  expect  that  there  would  be  an 
analogy  between  God's  care  and  education  of  the  race,  and  His 
care  of  the  Bible  in  its  formation. 

Around  the  central  certainty  of  saving  truth  are  wrapped 
the  swaddling-clotlies  of  human  language.  Neither  the  condition 
of  the  human  understanding,  nor  the  nature  of  human  speech, 
which  is  the  vehicle  of  thought,  admits  of  more  than  a  frag- 
mentary and  partial  presentation  of  truth.  "  For  we  know  in 
part,  and  we  prophesy  in  part."  (1  Cor.  xiii.  9.)  Still  less  are 
we  then  to  expect  that  there  will  be  perfection  in  this  vehicle. 
And  incidental  errors,  which  do  not  reach  the  substance  of  truth 
and  duty,  which  touch  only  contingent  and  external  elements, 
are  not  to  be  regarded  as  inconsistent  with  the  fact  that  the 
Scriptures  were  impircd  of  God.  Nor  wUl  our  reverence  for  the 
Scriptures  be  impaired  if,  in  such  cases,  it  be  frankly  said.  Here 
is  an  insoluble  difficulty.  Such  a  course  is  far  less  dangerous 
to  the  moral  sense  than  that  pernicious  ingeiniity  which,  assum- 
ing that  there  can  be  no  literal  errors  in  Scripture,  resorts  to 
subtle  arts  of  criticism,  improbabilities  of  statement,  and  violence 
of  construction,  such  as,  if  made  use  of  in  the  intercomse  of 
men  in  daily  life,  would  break  up  society  and  destroy  all  faith 
of  man  in  man. 

We  dwell  at  length  upon  this  topic  now,  that  we  may  not 
be  obliged  to  recur  to  it  when,  as  will  be  the  case,  other  in- 
stances arise  in  which  there  is  no  solution  of  unimportant,  though 
real,  literary  difficulties. 

There  are  a  multitude  of  minute  and,  on  the  whole,  as  respects 
the  substance  of  truth,  not  important  questions  and  topics,  which, 
like  a  fostened  door,  refuse  to  be  opened  by  any  key  which  learn- 
ing has  brought  to  them.  It  is  better  to  let  them  stand  closed 
than,  like  impatient  mastiffs,  after  long. barking  in  vain,  to  he 
whining  at  the  door,  miable  to  enter  and  unwilling  to  go  away. 

^ -# 


r4=l- 


-a 


CHAPTER    V. 

THE   VOICE   IN   THE    WILDERNESS. 

THE  long  silence  is  ended.  The  seclusion  is  over,  with  all 
its  wondrous  inward  experience,  of  which  no  record  lias 
heen  made,  and  which  must  therefoi'e  be  left  to  a  I'everent 
imagination.  Jesus  has  now  reached  the  age  which  custom  has 
established  among  his  people  for  the  entrance  of  a  priest  upon 
his  public  duty. 

But,  first,  another  voice  is  to  be  heard.  Before  the  ministry 
of  Love  begins,  there  is  to  be  one  more  great  jJi'ophet  of  the 
Law,  who,  with  stern  and  severe  fidelity,  shall  stu-  the  conscience, 
and,  as  it  were,  open  the  furrows  in  which  the  seeds  of  the  new 
life  are  to  be  sown. 

Every  nation  has  its  men  of  genius.  The  direction  which 
their  genius  takes  will  be  determined  largely  by  the  peculiar 
education  which  arises  from  the  position  and  histoi'y  of  the  na- 
tion ;  but  it  will  also  depend  upon  the  innate  tendencies  of  the 
race-stock. 

The  original  tribal  organizations  of  Israel  were  moulded  by 
the  laws  and  institutions  of  Moses  into  a  commonwealth  of  pe- 
culiar characteristics.  Each  tribe  scrupulously  preserved  its 
autonomy,  and  in  its  own  province  had  a  local  mdependence ; 
while  the  whole  were  grouped  and  confederated  around  the 
Tabernacle,  and  afterwards  about  its  outgrowth,  the  Temple. 
On  the  one  side,  the  nation  approximated  to  a  democracy ;  on 
the  other,  to  a  monarchy.  But  the  throne,  independent  of  the 
people,  was  not  independent  of  an  aristocracy.  The  priestly 
class  combined  in  itself,  as  in  Egypt,  the  civil  and  sacerdotal 
functions.  The  Hebrew  govermuent  was  a  theocratic  democracy. 
A  fierce  and  turbulent  people  had  great  power  over  the  govern- 
ment. The  ruling  class  was,  as  in  Egypt  it  had  been,  the 
priestly  class.     The  laws  which  regulated  personal  right?,  prop- 

^ ^ 


^ ^ -a 

64  THU  LIFE  OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

erty,  industry,  marriage,  revenue,  military  affiiirs,  and  religious 
worship  were  all  ecclesiastical,  —  were  interpreted  and  adminis- 
tered b}^  the  hierarchy.  The  doctrine  of  a  future  existence  had 
no  place  in  the  Mosaic  economy,  either  as  a  dogma  or  as  a  moral 
influence.  The  sphere  of  religion  was  wholly  within  the  secu- 
lar horizon.  There  was  no  distinction,  as  with  us,  of  things  civil 
and  things  moral.  All  moral  duties  were  civil,  and  all  ci^^l 
were  moral  duties.  Priest  and  magistrate  were  one.  Patriotism 
and  piety  were  identical.  The  military  organization  of  the  Jews 
was  Levitical.  The  priest  wore  the  sword,  took  part  in  planning 
campaigns,  and  led  the  people  in  battle.^  The  Levitical  body  was 
a  kind  of  national  university.  Literature,  learning,  and  the  fine 
arts,  in  so  far  as  they  had  existence,  were  preserved,  nourished, 
and  diffused  by  the  priestly  order. 

Under  such  circumstances,  genius  must  needs  be  religious. 
It  must  develop  itself  in  analogy  -with  the  history  and  institu- 
tions of  the  people.  The  Hebrew  man  of  genius  was  the  prophet. 
The  strict  priest  W'as  narrow^  and  barren ;  the  prophet  was  a 
son  of  liberty,  a  child  of  inspiration.  All  other  men  touched 
the  ground.  He  only  had  wings;  he  was  orator,  poet,  singer, 
civihan,  statesman.  Of  no  close  profession,  he  perfonned  the 
functions  of  all,  as  by  turns,  in  the  great  personal  freedom  of 
his  career,  he  needed  their  elements. 

That  temperament  which  now  underlies  genius  was  also  the 
root  of  the  prophetic  nature.  In  ordinary  men,  the  mind- 
system  is  organized  with  only  that  degree  of  sensibility  which 
enables  it  to  act  under  the  stimulus  of  external  influences. 
The  ideal  perfect  man  is  one  who,  in  addition,  has  such  fine- 
ness and  sensibility  as  to  originate  conceptions  from  interior 
cerebral  stunulus.  He  acts  without  waiting  for  external  solici- 
tation. The  particular  mode  of  this  automatic  action  varies  with 
chfFerent  persons.  With  all,  however,  it  has  this  in  common, 
that  the  mind  does  not  creep  step  by  step  toward  knowledge, 
gaining  it  by  httle  and  Uttle.  It  is  rather  as  if  knowledge  came 
upon  the  soul  by  a  sudden  flash;  or  as  if  the  mind  itself  had 
an  illuminating  power,  by  which  suddenly  and  instantly  it  poured 
forth  light  upon  external  things.     This  was  early  called  inspira- 

'  For  some  instructive  and  interesting  remarks  on  tliis  topic,  see  A.  P.  Stanley.  Jewish 
Church,  §  2,  p.  448. 

^ -^ 


^ ^ ^ -Hi 

THE    VOICE  IN   THE    WILDERNESS.  65 

tion,  as  if  the  gods  had  hreathed  into  the  soul  something  of  their 
omniscience.     It  is  still  called  inspiration. 

If  the  intellect  alone  has  this  power  of  exaltation  and  creative- 
ness,  we  shall  behold  genius  in  literature  or  science.  But  if 
there  be  added  an  eminent  moral  sense  and  comprehensive 
moral  sentiments,  we  shall  have,  in  peaceful  times,  men  who 
will  carry  ideas  of  right,  of  justice,  of  mercy,  for  bevond  the 
bounds  at  which  they  found  them,  —  moral  teachers,  judges,  and 
creative  moralists ;  and  in  times  of  storm,  reformers  and  martyrs. 

This  constitution  of  genius  is  not  something  abnormal.  Com- 
plete development  of  all  the  body  and  all  the  mind,  with  a 
susceptibility  to  automatic  activity,  is  ripe  and  proper  manhood. 
To  this  the  whole  race  is  perhaps  ajjproxunating,  and,  m  the 
perfect  day,  will  attain. 

But  in  a  race  rising  slowly  out  of  animal  condition,  in  posses- 
sion of  unripe  faculties,  left  almost  to  chance  for  education, 
there  sometimes  come  these  higher  natures,  men  of  genius,  who 
are  not  to  be  deemed  creatures  of  another  nature,  lifted  above 
their  fellows  for  their  own  advantage  and  enjopnent.  The}' 
are  only  elder  brethren  of  the  race.  They  are  appointed  lead- 
ers, going  before  their  child-brethren,  to  iuspu-e  them  with  higher 
ideas  of  life,  and  to  show  them  the  way.  By  their  natm-e  and 
position  they  are  forerunners,  seers,  and  foreseers. 

Such  men,  among  the  old  Jews,  became  prophets.  But  a 
prophet  was  more  than  one  who  foretold  events.  He  forefelt 
and  foretaught  high  moral  truths.  He  had  escaped  the  thrall  of 
passion  in  which  other  men  lived,  and,  without  help  mherited 
from  old  civilizations,  by  the  force  of  the  Divine  Spirit  acting 
upon  a  nature  of  genius  in  moral  directions,  he  went  ahead  of 
his  nation  and  of  his  age,  denouncing  evil,  revealing  justice, 
enjoining  social  purity,  and  inspiring  a  noble  piety.  A  prophet 
was  born  to  his  office.  Whoever  found  in  himself  the  uprising 
soul,  the  sensibility  to  divine  truth,  the  impulse  to  proclaim  it, 
might,  if  he  pleased,  be  a  prophet,  in  the  peculiar  sense  of 
declaring  the  truth  and  enforcing  moral  ideas.  The  call  of  God, 
in  all  ages,  has  come  to  natures  already-  prepai'cd  for  the  office 
to  which  they  were  called.  Here  was  a  call  in  birth-structui-e. 
This  was  well  understood  by  the  prophets.  Jeremiah  explicitly 
declares    that  he  was  (?;•<>«/«/ to  the  prophetic  office:   "The  word 

^ ^ 


a- -Q] 

66  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE  CHRIST. 

of  the  Lord  came  unto  me,  saying,  Before  I  formed  thee  in 
the  belly  I  knew  thee ;  and  before  thou  camest  forth  out  of  the 
womb  I  sanctified  thee,  and  I  ordained  thee  a  prophet  unto 
the  nations."  (Jer.  i.  4,  5.)  When  God  calls  men,  he  calls 
thoroughly  and  begins  early. 

The  prophets,  although  wielding  great  influence,  seem  not 
to  have  been  inducted  into  office  by  any  ecclesiastical  authority. 
There  Avas  no  provision,  at  least  in  early  times,  for  their  con- 
tinuance and  succession  in  the  community.  There  was  no  regu- 
lar succession.  Occasionally  they  shot  up  from  the  people,  by 
the  impulse  of  their  own  natures,  divinely  moved.  They  were 
confined  to  no  grade  or  class.  They  might  be  priests  or  com- 
moners ;  they  might  come  of  any  tribe.  In  two  instances  eminent 
projihets  were  women ;  and  one  of  them,  Iluldah,  was  of  such 
repute  that  to  her,  though  Jeremiah  was  then  alive  and  in  full 
authority.  King  Josiah  sent  for  advice  in  impending  public  dan- 
ger.    (2  Kings  xxii.  14-20.) 

It  Avas  from  the  fi'ee  spirit  of  the  prophet  in  the  old  Jewish 
nation,  and  not  from  the  priesthood,  that  religious  ideas  grew, 
and  enlarged  interpretations  of  religion  jiroceeded.  The  priest 
indeed  had  a  very  limited  sphere.  The  nature  of  the  Temple 
service  required  him  to  be  but  little  conversant  with  the  living 
souls  of  men,  and  as  little  Avith  ideas.  In  preparing  the  sacri- 
fices of  oxen,  of  sheep,  of  birds,  the  Temple  or  Tabernacle  could 
have  appeared  to  the  modern  eye  but  little  less  repulsive  than 
a  huge  uhaitoir.  The  priests,  with  axe  and  knife,  slaughtering 
herds  of  animals,  needed  to  be,  and  certainly  in  the  early  daj^s 
were,  men  of  nerve  and  mviscle,  rather  than  men  of  rich  emo- 
tion or  of  strong  religious  feeling.^  The  subordinate  priests 
had  as  little  occasion  for  moral  feeling,  in  the  performance  of 
their  ordinary  duties,  as  laborers  in  the  shambles.  The  higher 
officers   were    neither   teachers    nor   preachers.      In    scarcely    a 

'  "Wlicn  Solomon  brought  up  the  ark  and  the  sacred  vessel  to  the  new  Temple,  it  is 
said  that  he  sacrificed  slieep  and  oxen  "  that  could  not  be  told  nor  numbered  for  multi- 
tude," and,  at  the  close  of  the  dedicatory  services,  "  Solomon  offered  a  sacrifice  of  peace- 
offerings,  which  he  offered  unto  the  Lord,  two  and  twenty  thousand  oxen,  and  an  hundred 
and  twenty  thousand  sheep.  So  the  king  and  all  the  children  of  Israel  dedicated  the 
house  of  the  Lord."  (1  Kings  viii.  5,  63.)  Tliis  must  have  been  the  climax.  Such 
gigantic  slaughters  could  not  have  been  common.  But  the  regular  sacrifices  involved  the 
necessity  of  killing  vast  numbers  of  animals. 

^ ^ 


^- -a 

THE    VOICE  IN   THE    WILDERNESS.  67 

single  point,  from  the  high-priest  downward,  do  the  members 
of  the  Jewish  hierarciiy  resemble  the  Christian  minister.  It  is 
true  that  the  Levites  were  appointed  to  instruct  the  people  in 
the  Law  ;  but  this  instruction  consisted  merely  in  an  occasional 
public  reading  of  the  Levitical  Scriptures.  Until  after  the  cap- 
tivity, and  do\vn  to  a  comparatively  late  period  in  Jewish  history, 
this  function  was  irregularly  perfonned,  and  with  but  little 
effect.  If  there  had  been  no  other  source  of  moral  influence 
than  the  priesthood,  the  people  might  almost  as  well  have  been 
left  to  themselves. 

The  prophetic  impulse  had  been  felt  long  before  the  Levitical 
institutes  were  framed.  Now  and  then,  at  wide  intervals,  men 
of  genius  had  arisen,  who  carried  forward  the  moral  sentiment 
of  their  age.  They  enlarged  the  bounds  of  truth,  and  deepened 
in  the  consciences  of  men  moral  and  religious  obligations.  It  is 
only  through  the  imagination  that  rude  natures  can  be  spiritually 
influenced.  These  men  were  often  great  moral  dramatists.  They 
kept  themselves  aloof  Some  of  them  dwelt  in  solitary  places, 
and  came  upon  the  people  at  unexpected  moments.  The  proph- 
ets were  intensely  patriotic.  They  were  the  defenders  of  the 
common  people  against  oppressive  rulers,  and  they  stirred  them 
up  to  throw  off  foreign  rule.  Wild  and  weird  as  they  often 
were,  awful  in  their  severity,  carrying  justice  at  times  to  the 
most  bloody  and  terrific  sacrifices,  they  were  notwithstanding 
essentially  humane,  sympathetic,  and  good.  The  old  prophets 
were  the  men  in  whom,  in  a  desolate  age,  and  in  almost  savage 
conditions  of  society,  the  gentler  graces  of  the  soul  took  refuge. 
"We  must  not  be  deceived  by  their  rugged  exterior,  nor  by  the 
battle  which  they  made  for  the  right.  Humanity  has  its  severi- 
ties ;  and  even  love,  striving  for  the  crown,  must  fight.  Like  all 
men  who  reform  a  corrupt  age,  the  rude  violence  of  the  prophets 
was  exerted  against  the  animal  that  is  in  man,  for  the  sake  of 
his  spiritual  nature. 

Had  there  been  but  the  influence  of  the  Temple  or  of  the 
Tabernacle  to  repress  and  limit  the  outflow  of  those  passions 
which  make  themselves  channels  in  every  societ}-  of  men,  they 
would  have  swept  like  a  flood,  and  destroyed  the  foundations 
of  civil  life.  It  was  the  prophet  who  kept  alive  the  moral  sense 
of  the  people.     He  taught  no  subtilties.     It  was  too  early,  and 

i- -^ 


cP ^ 

68  TIfE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

this  was  not  the  nation,  for  such  philosophy  as  sprung  up  in 
Greece.  The  prophet  seized  those  gi-eat  moi-al  truths  wliich 
inhere  in  the  very  soul  of  man,  and  which  natural  and  revealed 
religion  hold  in  common.  Their  own  feelings  were  roused  by 
mysterious  contact  with  the  forces  of  the  invisible  Avorld.  They 
confronted  alike  the  court  and  the  nation  with  audacious  fidelity. 
Often  themselves  of  the  sacerdotal  order,  and  exercising  the 
sacrificial  functions  of  the  priest  (as  in  the  instance  of  Samuel), 
yet  when,  in  later  times,  true  spirituality  had  been  overlaid  and 
destroyed  by  ritualism,  they  turned  against  the  priest,  the  ritual, 
and  the  Temple.  They  trod  imder  foot  the  artificial  sanctity 
of  religious  usages,  and  vindicated  the  authority  of  morality, 
humanit}-,  and  simple  personal  piety  against  the  superstitions 
and  the  exactions  of  religious  institutions  and  their  officials. 

Jeremiah  speaks  so  slightingly  of  sacrifices  as  to  seem  to  deny 
their  divine  origin.  He  represents  God  as  saying :  "  For  I  spake 
not  unto  your  fathers,  nor  commanded  them  in  the  day  that 
I  brought  them  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt,  concerning  burnt- 
ofterings  or  sacrifices.  But  this  thing  commanded  I  them,  saying. 
Obey  my  voice,  and  I  will  be  your  t!od,  and  ye  shall  be  my 
people."     (Jcr.  vii.  22,  23.) 

Isaiah  is  even  bolder :  "  To  what  purpose  is  the  multitude 
of  your  sacrifices  unto  me  ?  .  .  .  .  Your  new   moons  and  your 

appointed  feasts  my  soul  hateth Your  hands  are  full  of 

blood.  Wasli  you,  make  you  clean Seek  judgment,  re- 
lieve the  oppressed,  judge  the  fiitherless,  plead  for  the  widow." 
(Isa.  i.  11-17.) 

Amos,  in  impetuous  Avrath,  cries  out :  "  I  hate,  I  despise  your 
feast-days,    and    I   will   not   smell    in    your    solemn    assemblies. 

....  Take  thou  away  from  me  the  noise  of  thy  songs 

But  let  judgment  run  down  as  waters,  and  righteousness  as 
a  mighty  stream."  (Amos  v.  21-24.) 

Considering  the  honor  in  which  he  was  held,  and  the  influence 
allowed  him,  the  old  prophet  was  the  freest-speaking  man  on 
record.  Not  the  king,  nor  his  counsellors,  nor  jiriests,  nor  the 
people,  nor  prophets  themselves,  had  any  terror  for  him.  When 
the  solemn  influence  coming  from  the  great  invisible  world  set 
in  upon  his  soul,  his  whole  nature  moved  to  it,  as  the  tides 
move  to  celestial  power. 

^ -4^ 


[&- -a 

THE    VOICE  IN  THE    WILDERNESS.  69 

Bixt  the  prophet  did  not  Hve  alwa^'s,  nor  even  often,  in  these 
sublime  elevations  of  feeling.  The  popular  notion  that,  wrapt 
in  moods  of  grandeur,  he  was  always  looking  into  the  future, 
and  drawing  forth  secrets  from  its  mysterious  depths,  —  a  weird 
fisher  upon  the  shores  of  the  infinite,  —  is  the  very  reverse  of 
truth.  Revelatory  inspirations  were  occasional  and  rare.  Thev 
seldom  came  except  in  some  imminent  catastrophe  of  the  na- 
tion, or  upon  some  high-handed  aggression  of  idolatry  or  of 
regal  immorality.  The  prophet  labored  with  his  hands,  or  was 
a  teacher.  At  certain  periods,  it  would  seem  as  if  in  his  care 
were  placed  the  music,  the  poetry,  the  oratory,  and  even  the 
jurisprudence  of  the  nation.  The  phrase  "to  prophesy"  at  first 
signified  an  uncontrollable  utterance  under  an  overruling  posses- 
sion, or  inspiration.  It  was  an  irresistible  rhapsody,  frequently 
so  like  that  of  the  insane,  that  in  early  times,  and  among  some 
nations  even  yet,  the  insane  were  looked  upon  with  some  awe, 
as  persons  overcharged  with  the  prophetic  spirit.  But  in  time 
the  term  assumed  the  meaning  of  moral  discourse,  vehement 
preaching ;  and  finally  it  included  simple  moral  teaching.  In 
the  later  periods  of  Jewish  history,  the  term  "  to  prophesy  "  was 
understood  in  much  the  same  sense  as  our  phrases  "  to  instruct," 
"to  indoctrinate."  Paul  sa3's,  "He  that  prophesieth  speaketh 
unto  men  to  edification,  and  exhortation,  and  comfort."  (1  Cor. 
xiv.  3.)  The  criticisms  and  commands  of  the  Apostle  respecting 
prophecy  show  clearly  that  in  his  day  it  was  in  the  nature  of 
sudden,  impulsive,  impassioned  discourse,  —  that  it  was,  in  short, 
sacred  oratory. 

The  absolute  spontaneity  of  the  old  prophet,  in  contrast  with 
the  perfunctory  priest,  is  admirable.  Out  of  a  ritual  service 
rigid  as  a  rock  is  seen  gushing  a  liberty  of  utterance  that  re- 
minds one  of  the  rock  in  the  wilderness  when  smitten  with  the 
prophet's  rod.  Although  the  prophets  were  ihc  rehgious  men,  far 
more  revered  for  sanctity  than  the  priests,  it  was  not  because 
they  held  aloof  from  secular  affairs.  They  were  often  men  of 
rigor,  but  never  ascetics.  They  never  despised  common  human- 
ity, either  in  its  moral  or  in  its  secular  relations. 

The  prophet  was  sometimes  the  chief  justice  of  the  nation,  as 
Samuel ;  or  a  councillor  at  court,  as  Nathan ;  or  a  retired  states- 
man, consulted  by  the   rulers,  as  Elisha;  or  an  iron  reformer, 

t- -# 


fl- ^ 

70  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

as  Elijah  ;  oi-  the  censor  and  theologian,  as  Isaiah,  who,  like  Dante, 
clothed  philosophy  with  the  garb  of  poetry,  that  it  might  have 
power  to  search  and  to  purify  society.  But  whatever  else  he 
was,  the  prophet  was  the  great  exemplar  of  personal  freedom. 
He  represented  absolute  personal  liberty  in  religious  thought. 
He  often  opposed  the  government,  but  in  favor  of  the  state ; 
he  inveighed  against  the  church,  but  on  behalf  of  religion  ;  he 
denounced  the  people,  but  always  for  their  own  highest  good. 

It  must  ])e  through  some  such  avenue  of  thought  that  one 
approaches  the  last  great  prophet  of  the  Jewish  nation.  The 
morning  star  of  a  new  era,  John  is  speedily  lost  in  the  blaze 
of  Him  who  was  and  is  the  ''  Light  of  the  world."  His  history 
seems  short.  The  child  of  prophecy,  —  the  youth  secluded  in 
the  solitudes,  —  the  voice  in  the  wilderness, —  the  crowds  on 
the  Jordan, —  the  grasp  of  persecution,  —  the  death  in  prison, — 
this  is  the  outline  of  his  story.  But  in  the  filling  up,  Avhat 
substance  of  manhood  must  have  been  there,  what  genuine  power, 
what  moral  richness  in  thought  and  feeling,  what  chivalric  mag- 
nanimity, to  have  drawn  from  Jesus  the  eidogy,  "  Among  those 
that  are  Ijorn  of  women  there  is  not  a  greater  prophet  than  John 
the  Baptist " !  But  his  was  one  of  those  lives  which  are  lost  to 
themselves  tluit  they  may  spring  up  in  others.  He  came  both 
in  grandeur  and  in  beauty,  like  a  summer  storm,  which,  falling 
in  rain,  is  lost  in  the  soil,  and  reappears  neither  as  vajjor  nor 
cloud,  but  transfused  into  flowers  and  fruits. 

One  particular  prophet  was  singled  out  by  our  Lord  as  John's 
prototype,  and  that  one  by  far  the  most  dramatic  of  all  the 
venerable  brotherhood.  '"  If  ye  will  receive  it,  this  is  Elias, 
which  was  for  to  come"  (Matt.  xi.  14),  —  Elijah,  called  in  the 
Septuagint  version  Elias.  Malachi,  whose  words  close  the  canon 
of  the  Jewish  Scriptures,  had  declared,  "Behold,  I  will  send 
3'ou  Elijah  the  prophet,  before  the  coming  of  the  great  and 
dreadful  da}'  of  the  Lord."  There  was,  therefore,  a  universal 
expectation  among  the  Jcavs  that  the  Messiah  should  be  pre- 
ceded by  Elijah.^     It  was  an   expectation  not  confined   to  the 

'  Stanley  says  of  this  prophet :  —  "  He  stood  alone  against  Jezebel.  He  stands  alone 
in  many  senses  among  the  prophets.  Nursed  in  the  bosom  of  Israel,  the  prophetical 
portion,  if  one  may  so  say,  of  the  chosen  people,  vindicating  the  true  religion  from  the 
nearest  danger  of  overthrow,  setting  at  defiance  by  invisible  power  the  whole  forces  of 

^ ^ 


THE    VOICE  IN  THE    WILDERNESS.  71 

Jews,  but  shared  by  the  outlying  tribes  and  nations  around 
Palestine.  There  is  no  real  interior  resemblance  between  John 
and  Elijah.  Their  times  were  not  alike.  There  ai-e  not  else- 
where in  recorded  history  such  dramatic  elements  as  in  the 
career  of  Elijah.  Irregular,  almost  fitful,  Elijah  the  Tishbite 
seemed  at  times  clean  gone  forever,  dried  up  like  a  summer's 
bi'ook.  Then  suddenly,  like  that  stream  after  a  stonn  on  the 
hills,  he  came  down  with  a  flood.  His  sudden  appearances  and 
as  sudden  vanishings  were  perfectly  natural  to  one  who  had  been 
reared,  as  he  had  been,  among  a  nomadic  people,  not  unlike  the 
Bedouin  Arabs.  But  to  us  they  seem  more  like  the  mystery 
of  spiritual  apparitions.  When  the  whole  kingdom  and  the 
regions  round  about  were  searched  for  him  in  vain  by  the  in- 
quisitorial Jezebel,  then,  without  warning,  he  appeared  befoi'e  the 
court,  overawed  its  power,  and  carried  away  the  people  by  an 
irresistible  fascination.  Almost  alone,  and  mourning  over  his 
sohtariness,  he  buffeted  the  idolatrous  government  for  long  and 
weary  years  of  discouragement.  His  end  was  as  wonderful  as 
his  career.  Caught  up  in  a  mighty  tempest,  he  disappeared 
from  the  earth,  to  be  seen  no  more,  until,  in  the  exquisite 
vision  of  the  Transfiguration,  his  heavenly  spirit  blossomed  into 
light,  and  hung  alcove  the  glowing  Saviour  and  the  terrified 
disciples. 

"  This  is  Elias,  which  was  for  to  come."  John  from  his  child- 
hood had  been  reared  in  the  rugged  region  west  of  the  Dead 
Sea,   southeast  from  Jerusalem   and   Bethlehem.     (Luke  i.  80.) 

the  Israelite  kingflom,  he  reached  a  height  equal  to  that  of  ]\Ioses  and  Samuel  in  the  tra- 
ditions of  his  country. 

"  He  was  the  prophet  for  whose  return  in  later  years  his  countrymen  have  looked  with 
most  eager  hope  The  last  prophet  of  the  old  dispensation  clung  to  this  consolation 
in  the  decline  of  the  state. 

'■  In  the  gospel  history  we  find  this  expectation  constantly  excited  in  each  successive 
appearance  of  a  new  prophet.  It  was  a  fixed  belief  of  the  Jews  that  he  had  appeared 
again  and  again,  as  an  Arabian  merchant,  to  wise  and  good  rabbis  at  their  prayers  or 
on  their  journeys.  A  seat  is  still  placed  for  him  to  superintend  the  circumcision  of  the 
Jewish  children. 

"  Passover  after  Passover,  the  Jews  of  our  own  day  place  the  paschal  cup  on  the 
table  and  set  the  door  wide  open,  believing  that  this  is  the  moment  when  Elijah  will 
reappear. 

"  When  goods  are  found  and  no  owner  comes,  when  difficulties  arise  and  no  solution 
appears,  the  answer  is,  '  Put  them  by  till  Elijah  comes.' "  —  Stanley,  HUtory  of  the  Jewish 
Church,  Part  II.  p.  290. 

^ -^ 


[0 —a 

72  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,  THE  CHRIST. 

His  raiment  was  a  cloth  of  camel's  hair,  lirobably  a  long  robe 
fostened  round  the  Avaist  with  a  leathern  girdle.  Whether  he 
lived  more  as  a  hermit  or  as  a  shepherd,  we  cannot  tell.  It 
is  probable  that  he  wa.s  each  by  turns.  In  a  manner  which  is 
peculiarly  congenial  to  the  Oriental  imagination,  he  fed  his 
moral  nature  in  solitude,  and  by  meditation  gained  that  educa- 
tion which  with  Western  races  comes  by  the  activities  of  a 
benevolent  life. 

He  probably  surpassed  his  great  prototype  in  native  power 
and  in  the  importance  of  his  special  mission,  but  fell  below  him 
in  duration  of  action  and  dramatic  effect.  Elijah  and  John  were 
alike  unconventional,  each  having  a  strong,  though  rude  individ- 
ualism. Living  in  the  wilderness,  fed  by  the  thoughts  and  imagi- 
nations which  great  natures  find  in  solitude,  their  characters 
had  woven  into  them  not  one  of  those  soft  and  silvery  threads 
which  fly  back  and  forth  incessantly  from  the  shuttle  of  civilized 
life.  They  began  their  ministry  without  entanglements.  They 
had  no  yoke  to  break,  no  harness  to  cast  off,  no  customs  to  re- 
nounce.    They  came  to  society,  woi from  it. 

Each  of  them,  single-handed,  attacked  the  bad  morals  of  soci- 
ety and  the  selfish  conduct  of  men.  Though  of  a  piiestly  famih^, 
John  did  not  represent  the  Temple  or  its  schools.  He  came 
in  the  name  of  no  Jewish  sect  or  party.  He  was  simply  "the 
voice  of  One  crying  in  the  wilderness." 

John  was  Christ's  forerunner,  as  the  ploughman  goes  before 
the  sower.  Before  good  work  can  be  expected,  there  must  be 
excitement.  The  turf-bound  surface  of  communities  must  be 
torn  up,  the  compacted  soil  turned  to  the  air  and  light.  Upon 
the  rough  furrows,  and  not  on  the  shorn  lawn,  is  there  ho2)e  for 
the  seed. 

This  great  work  of  arousing  the  nation  befitted  John.  His 
spirit  was  of  the  Law.  He  had,  doubtless,  like  his  ancient 
brethren  of  the  prophet  brood,  his  mysterious  struggles  with 
the  infinite  and  the  imknoA\Ta.  He  had  felt  the  sovereignty 
of  conscience.  Right  and  wrong  rose  before  his  imagination, 
amidst  the  amenities  of  an  indulgent  life,  like  Ebal  and  Gerizim 
above  the  vale  of  Samaria.  In  his  very  prime,  and  full  of  im- 
petuous manhood,  he  came  forth  from  the  wilderness,  and  began 
his  career  by  the  most  direct  and  unsparing  appeals  to  the  moral 

^ ^ 


[^ 


THE    VOICE  IN  THE    WILDERNESS. 


73 


sense  of  the  people.  Tliere  was  no  sensuous  niysticisna,  no  sub- 
tile philosophy,  no  poetic  enchantment,  no  tide  of  pleasurable 
emotion.  He  assailed  human  conduct  in  downright  earnest.  He 
struck  right  home  at  the  unsheltered  sins  of  guilty  men,  as  the 
axe-man  strikes.  Indeed,  the  axe  should  be  the  sign  and  sym- 
bol of  John.i  There  are  moods  in  men  that  invite  such  moral 
aggression  as  his.  When  a  large  and  magnetic  nature  appears, 
with  power  to  grasp  men,  the  moral  feeling  becomes  electric 
and  contagious.  Whole  communities  are  fired.  They  rise  up 
against  their  sins  and  self-indulgent  habits,  they  lead  them  forth 
to  slaughter,  as  the  minions  of  Baal  were  led  by  Elijah  at  Mount 
Carmel.  Not  the  grandest  commotions  of  nature,  not  the  com- 
ing on  of  spring,  nor  the  sound  of  summer  storms,  is  more  sub- 
lime than  are  these  moral  whirls,  to  which,  especially  in  their 
grander  but  less  useful  forms,  rude  men,  in  morally  neglected 
communities,    are    powerfully    addicted. 


-a 


THK   GHOi;, 


\LLEV,    NEAR    KKTMSMAN. 


The  wilderness  of  Judaea,  whore  John  Ix-gan  liis  preaching, 
reaches  on  its  northern  flank  to  the  river  Jordan.  From  this 
point  he  seems  to  have  made  brief  circuits  in  the  vicinity  of  the 


'  "And  now  also  the  axe  is  laiil  unto  the  root  of  tlio  trees :  therefore  every  tree 
wliieh  bringeth  nut  forth  good  fruit  is  hewn  down,  and  cast  into  the  file."  (Matt 
iii.   10.) 


^ 


# 


74  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

river  valley.  "  He  came  into  all  the  country  about  Jordan." 
(Luke  iii.  3.)  But,  as  his  fame  spread,  he  was  saved  the  labor 
of  travel.  "There  went  out  unto  him  all  the  land  of  Judtea" 
(Mark  i.  5), —  city,  town,  and  country.  The  population  of  this 
region  was  very  dense.  It  was  largely  a  Jewish  population, 
and  therefore  mercurial  in  feeling,  but  tenacious  of  purpose ; 
easily  aroused,  but  hard  to  change ;  not  willing  to  alter  its 
course,  but  glad  to  be  kindled  and  accelerated  in  any  direction 
already  begun.  An  Oriental  nation  is  peculiarly  accessible  to 
excitement,  and  the  Jews  above  all  Orientals  were  open  to  its 
influence.  Fanaticism  lay  dormant  in  every  heart.  Everj^  Jew 
was  like  a  grain  of  po\vder,  harmless  and  small  until  touched 
by  the  spark,  and  then  instantly  swelling  with  irresistible  and 
immeasurable  force.  Just  at  this  time,  too,  the  very  air  of 
Juda?a  was  full  of  feverish  expectation.  Its  people  were  sick  of 
foreign  rule.  Their  pride  was  wounded,  but  not  weakened, 
or  even  himibled. 

The  Jews  were  the  children  of  the  proj)hets.  That  one  Voice 
crying  in  the  wilderness  touched  the  deep  religious  romance  of 
every  patriotic  heart.  It  was  like  the  olden  time.  So  had  the 
great  prophets  done.  Even  one  of  less  greatness  than  John 
would  have  had  a  tumultuous  reception.  But  John  Avas  pro- 
foundly in  earnest.  It  was  his  good  fortune  to  have  no  restraints 
or  commitments.  He  had  no  philosophy  to  shape  or  balance, 
no  sect  whose  tenets  he  must  respect,  no  reputation  to  guard, 
and  no  deluding  vanity  of  an  influence  to  be  either  Avon  or  kept. 
He  listened  to  the  voice  of  God  in  his  own  soul,  and  spake 
right  on.  When  such  a  one  speaks,  the  hearts  of  men  are 
targets,  his  words  are  ari'ows,  and  multitudes  Avill  fall  down 
Avounded. 

And  yet  no  one  in  the  full  blessedness  of  Christian  expe- 
rience can  look  upon  the  preaching  of  John  Avithout  sadness.  It 
Avas  secular,  not  spiritual.  There  Avas  no  future,  no  great  spirit- 
land,  no  heaven  aboA'e  his  Avorld.  The  JcAvish  hills  Avere  his 
horizon.  It  is  true  that  he  saAv  above  these  hills  a  hazy  light ; 
Ijut  Avhat  that  light  Avould  reveal  he  kncAv  not.  Hoav  should 
he  ?  To  him  it  seemed  that  the  Messiah  Avould  be  only  another 
John,  but  grander,  more  thorough,  and  Avholly  irresistible.  "  But 
he   that   cometh   after   me    is   mightier   than   I."     What  Avould 

^ ^ 


THE    VOICE  IN  THE    WILDERNESS  75 

this  mightier  than  John  be  ?  Wh.at  would  he  do  ?  Only  this : 
"He  shall  baptize  you  with  the  Holy  Ghost  and  with  fire: 
whose  fan  is  in  his  hand,  and  he  will  thoroughly  purge  his  floor, 
and  will  gather  the  wheat  into  his  garner ;  but  the  chaff"  he 
will  bum  with  fire  unquenchable." 

All  this  was  true ;  but  that  does  not  describe  the  Christ. 
John  saw  him  as  one  sees  a  tree  in  winter,  —  the  bare  branches 
without  leaves,  flowers,  or  fruit.  What  would  he  have  thought, 
if  he  had  heard  the  first  sermon  of  Jesus  at  Nazareth, —  "He 
hath  sent  me  to  heal  the  broken-hearted,  to  preach  deliverance 
to  the  captives,  and  recovering  of  sight  to  the  blind,  to  set  at 
liberty  them  that  are  bruised "  ?  No  wonder  Jesus  said  of 
him  that  the  least  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven  should  be  greater 
than  he !  John  would  have  said,  Purity  and  then  divine  favor ; 
Christ,  Divine  favor  that  ye  may  become  pure. 

This  great  Soul  of  the  Wilderness  was  sent  to  do  a  prepara- 
tory work,  and  to  introduce  the  true  Teacher.  Though  he 
represented  the  Law,  that  Law  had  not  in  his  hands,  as  it  had 
in  the  handling  of  the  priests,  lost  all  compassion.  There  is  a 
bold  discrimination  in  the  Baptist's  conduct  toward  the  igno- 
rant common  peojile  and  the  enlightened  Pharisee.  "  What  shall 
we  do?''  is  the  question  of  a  heai't  sincerely  in  earnest;  and 
this  question  brought  John  to  each  man's  side  like  a  brother. 

Knowing  that  to  repent  of  particular  sins  was  an  education 
toward  a  hatred  of  the  principle  of  evil,  —  sins  being  the  drops 
which  flow  from  the  fountain  of  sin,  —  he  obliged  the  tax- 
gatherer  to  repent  of  a  tax-gatherer's  sins,  —  extortion  and 
avarice.  The  soldier  must  abandon  his  peculiar  sins,  —  violence, 
rapine,  greed  of  booty,  revengeful  accusations  against  all  who 
resisted  his  predatory  habits.  Selfish  men,  living  together,  prey 
on  one  another  by  the  endless  Avays  of  petty  selfishness.  John 
struck  at  the  root  of  this  universal  self-indulgence  when  he 
commanded  the  common  people,  "  He  that  hath  two  coats,  let 
him  impart  to  him  that  hath  none ;  and  he  that  hath  meat,  let 
him  do  likewise."  It  is  probable  that  he  had  seen  right  before 
him  hungry  and  shivering  men  l)y  the  side  of  the  over  full  and 
luxuriously  clothed. 

There  Avere  others  in  the  crowd  besides  publicans  and  sinners. 
There  Avere  saints    there,  —  at  least  the  Pharisees  thought  so. 


^ : ^ 

76  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,   THE  CHRIST. 

They  looked  upon  others  -with  symiiathy,  and  were  glad  that 
the  common  people  repented.  Although  they  themselves  needed 
no  amendment,  it  yet  could  do  no  harm  to  be  baptized,  and 
their  pious  example  might  encourage  those  who  needed  it  ! 
This  John  was  doing  good.  They  were  disposed  to  jiatronize 
him  ! 

If  this  was  the  spirit  which  John  perceived,  no  wonder 
he  Haslied  out  upon  them  with  such  lightning  strokes.  "  0 
generation  of  vipers,  who  hath  warned  you  to  flee  from  the 
wrath  to  come  ?  Bring  forth  fruits  meet  for  repentance."  These 
dazzling  words  did  not  altogether  offend,  for  the  Pharisees  were 
sure  that  John  did  not  quite  xuiderstand  that  they  were  the 
choicest  and  most  modern  instances  of  what  the  old  saints 
had  been !  Looking  around  on  the  sun-bleached  gravel  and 
mossless  stones,  John  replied  to  their  thoughts  :  ''  Think  not  to 
say  within  yourselves,  We  have  Abraham  to  our  Hither;  for 
I  say  unto  30U,  that  God  is  able  of  these  stones  to  raise  up 
children  imto  Aln'aham." 

The  preaching  of  John  is  plain.  But  what  was  the  meaning 
of  his  baptism  ?  Was  it  into  the  Jewish  church  that  he  bap- 
tized ?  But  the  people  were  already  members  of  that  church. 
It  was  a  national  church,  and  men  were  born  into  it  without 
any  further  trouble.  Was  it  an  initiation  into  a  new  sect  ? 
John  did  not  organize  a  sect  or  a  party.  He  explicitly  de- 
clared his  office  to  be  transitory,  his  function  to  prepare  men 
for  the  great  Coming  Man.  Was  it  Christian  baptism  ?  Christ 
was  not  yet  declared.     The  formula  Avas  not  Christian. 

If  that  inevitable  husk,  an  outward  organization,  had  not 
become  so  fixed  in  men's  minds,  John's  own  explanation  would 
suffice.  It  is  clear  and  explicit :  "  I  baj^tize  3'ou  with  water 
unto  repentance."  It  was  a  symbolic  act,  signifying  that  one 
had  risen  to  a  higher  moral  condition.  It  was  an  act  of  tran- 
sition. It  was  a  moral  act,  quite  important  enough  to  stand 
by  itself,  without  serving  any  secondary  purpose  of  initiation 
into  any  church  or  sect.  Neither  John  nor  afterwards  Jesus 
gave  to  the  act  any  ecclesiastical  meaning.  It  had  only  a 
moi'al  significance.  It  was  an  act  neither  of  association  nor  of 
initiation.  It  was  purely  personal,  beginning  and  ending  with 
the  individual  subject  of  it.     It  conferred,  and  professed  to  con- 

^ -^ 


[ft- ^ _^ 

THE    VOICE  IN  THE    WILDERNESS.  77 

fer,  nothing.  It  was  declaratory  of  moral  transition.  Baptism 
IS  that  symbolic  act  by  which  a  man  declares,  - 1  forsake  mv 
sms,  and  rise  to  a  better  life." 

A  study  of  the  fragments  of  John's  discourses  enables  us  to 
understand  the  relation  of  their  subject-matter  to  the  spirituvl 
truths  which  Christ  unfolded.  He  dwelt  in  the  truth  of  tl'ie 
old  dispensation.  He  saw  the  twilight  of  the  coming  day  but 
did  not  comprehend  it.  He  called  men  to  repentance,  but  it 
was  repentance  of  sin  as  measured  by  the  old  canons  of  morality 
He  called  men  to  reformation,  but  not  to  regeneration.  He 
summoned  men  back  to  the  highest  conception  of  rectitude  then 
known  ;  but  he  did  not,  as  Christ  did,  raise  morality  into  the 
realm  of  spirituality,  and  hold  forth  a  new  ideal  of  character 
nicomparably  higher  than  any  before  taught.  If  the  very  Re^ 
former  himself,  in  the  estimation  of  Jesus,  was  less  than  the 
least  in  the  kingdom  of  Heaven,  how  much  lower  must  his  rude 
disciples  have  been  than  the  "  new  man  in  Christ  Jesus " ! 

Ideals  are  the  true  germs  of  growth.  No  benefactor  is  like 
him  who  fills  life  with  new  and  fruitful  ideals.  Christ  gave  to 
every  duty  a  new  motive.  Every  virtue  had  an  aspiration  for 
something  yet  nobler.  He  carried  forward  the  bounds  of  life, 
and  assured  immortality  to  the  world  as  a  new  horizon.  He 
blew  away  the  mists  of  the  schools,  and  the  nature  of  God 
shone  out  with  redoubled  radiance.  He  was  the  God  of  the 
Jews,  because  he  was  the  God  of  the  whole  earth.  He  was  King, 
because  he  was  Father.  He  was  Sovereign,  because  love  reigns 
throughout  the  imiverse.  He  suffered,  and  thenceforth  alttars 
were  extinguished.  He  died,  and  Sinai  became  Calvary.  Where 
he  lay,  there  was  a  garden  ;  and  flowers  and  fragrant  clusters 
were  the  fit  symbols  of  the  new  era. 

The  true  place  of  John's  preaching  cannot  be  so  well  fixed  as 
by  this  contrast.  But  John  answered  the  end  for  Avhich  he  came. 
He  had  aroused  the  attention  of  the  nation.  He  had  stimulated, 
even  if  he  had  not  enlightened,  the  public  conscience;  and, 
above  all,  he  had  excited  an  eager  expectation  of  some  great 
national  deliverance. 

The  Jew  had  deep  moral  feelmg,  but  little  spirituality.  His 
moral  sense  was  strong,  but  narrow,  national,  and  selfish.  Tena- 
cious of  purpose,  elastic  and  tough,  courageous  even  to  fanaticism. 


^ 


[&-* ^ 

78  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,  THE  CHRIST. 

heroic  in  sufTering,  the  one  element  neefled  to  a  grand  national 
eliaiacter  was  love.  "  Thou  shalt  love  th}'  friends  and  hate 
thine  enemies,"  gave  ample  scope  to  hisnatm'c;  for  his  friends 
were  few,  and  his  enemies  nearly  the  whole  civilized  world. 
The  Hebrews  looked  for  a  Messiah,  and  he  was  already  among 
them.  Love  was  his  nature,  love  his  mission,  and  his  name 
might  have  been  called  Love.  How  should  he  l)e  known  In^ 
a  nation  who  were  practised  in  every  inflection  of  hatred,  but 
wlio  had  never  learned  the  spiritual  quality  of  love? 

Restless  as  was  the  nation,  and  longing  for  divine  interven- 
tion, every  portent  was  quicklj'-  noticed.  Fierce  factions,  and 
from  a  lower  plane  the  turbulent  people,  watched  his  coming. 
Tiie  wretched  nudtitude,  a  prey  by  turns  to  foreigners  and  to 
tlicir  own  countrymen,  had,  with  all  the  rest,  a  vague  and  su- 
perstitious faith  of  the  coming  Messiah.  Holy  men  like  Simeon, 
and  devout  priests  like  Zacharias,  there  were,  amidst  this  seething 
])C()pK'.  who,  brooding,  longing,  Avaiting,  chanted  to  themselves 
day  by  day  the  words  of  the  Psalmist,  "  My  soul  waiteth  for 
the  Lord  more  than  they  that  watch  for  the  morning."  (Ps. 
cxxx.  6.)  As  lovers  that  watch  for  the  appointed  coming,  and 
start  at  the  quivering  of  a  leaf,  the  Hight  of  a  bird,  or  the 
hunnning  of  a  bee,  and  grow  weary  of  the  tense  strain,  so 
did  the  Jews  watch  for  their  Deliverer.  It  is  one  of  the  most 
jiitcous  sights  of  history,  especially  when  we  reflect  that  he 
came,  —  and  they  knew  him  not ! 

This  growing  excitement  in  all  the  region  around  the  Jordan 
sent  its  fiery  wave  to  Jerusalem.  The  Temple,  with  its  keen 
priestly  watchers,  heard  that  voice  in  the  wilderness,  repeating 
day  by  day,  with  awful  emphasis,  "  Prepare,  prepare !  the  Lord 
is  at  hand  ! "  "With  all  the  airs  of  arrogant  authority  came 
down  from  the  Sanhedrim  priestly  questioners.  It  is  an  early 
instance  of  the  examination  of  a  young  man  for  license  to 
preach. 

"  Who  art  thou  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  the  Christ," 

"What  then,  art  thou  Elias?" 

"I  am  not." 

"Art  thou  that  prophet?" 

"  No." 

^ ■ ^ 


[p- -a 

TH£    VOICE  IN   THE    WILDERNESS.  79 

"  Who  art  thou,  that  we  maj-  give  an  answer  to  them  that  sent 
us  ?     What  sayest  thou  of  thyself  ?  " 

"I  am  the  Voice  of  one  crying  in  the  wilderness,  Make 
straight  the  way  of  the  Lord,  a^  said  the  prophet  Esaias." 

"  Why  baptizest  thou  then,  if  thou  be  not  that  Christ,  nor 
Elias,  neither  that  prophet?" 

"  I  baptize  with  water.  But  there  STA>'DETn  Oxe  a3ioxg 
YOU  whom  ye  know  not.  He  it  i.s,  that,  coming  after  me,  is 
preferred  before  me,  whose  shoe's  latchet  I  am  not  worthy  to  vm- 
loose." 

There  can  be  no  doubt  of  the  effect  of  John's  replies  upon  the 
comicil  at  Jerusalem.  It  was  simply  a  denial  of  their  authority'. 
It  was  an  appeal  from  Ritual  to  Conscience.  He  came  home 
to  men  with  direct  and  personal  appeal,  and  refused  the  old 
forms  and  sacred  channels  of  instruction ;  and  when  asked  by 
the  proper  authorities  for  his  credentials,  he  gave  his  name,  A 
Voice  in  the  Wilderness,  as  if  he  owed  no  obligation  to  Jeru- 
salem, but  only  to  nature  and  to  God. 

Akead}',  then,  theii"  Messiah  was  mingling  in  the  throng. 
He  was  looking  upon  men,  and  upon  John,  but  was  not  recog- 
nized. What  his  thoughts  were  at  the  scenes  about  him,  every 
one's  o^vn  imagination  must  reveal. 

On  the  day  following  the  visit  of  this  committee  from  Jerusa- 
lem, as  John  was  baptizing,  there  came  to  him  one  Jesus  from 
Nazareth,  and  asked  to  be  baptized.  John  had  been  forewarned 
of  the  significant  sign  by  which  he  should  recognize  the  Messiah  : 
"  He  that  sent  me  to  baptize  with  water,  the,  same  said  unto  me. 
Upon  whom  thou  shalt  see  the  Spirit  descending,  and  remaining 
on  him,  the  same  is  he  Avho  baptizeth  with  the  Holy  Ghost." 
Although  that  signal  had  not  been  given,  yet  he  recognized 
Jesas.  Whether,  being  cousins,  they  had  ever  met,  we  know 
not.  It  is  evident  that  they  were  in  s\Tnpathy,  each  having 
fully  heard  of  the  other.  Perhaps  they  had  met  year  by  year 
in  the  feasts  of  Jerusalem,  to  which  we  know  that  Christ  went 
up,  and  at  which  John,  as  a  man  of  the  old  dispensation  and  a 
thorough  Jew,  heart  and  soul,  was  even  more  hkely  to  have 
been  present. 

How  fierce  had  been  the  reply  of  the  Baptist  when  the 
Pharisees  asked  to  be  baptized!     How  gentle  was  his  bearing 

\^ ^ 


a- -a 

80  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

to  Jesus,  and  how  humble  his  expostulation,  "I  have  need  to 
be  baptized  of  thee^  and  comest  thou  to  me?" 

His  heart  recognized  the  Christ,  even  before  the  descent  of 
the  Spirit. 

Equally  beautiful  is  the  reply  of  Jesus.  He  had  not  yet  been 
made  known  by  the  brooding  Spirit.  He  had  neither  passed  his 
probation,  nor  received  that  enlarged  liberty  of  soul  which  was  to 
be  to  him  the  signal  for  his  peculiar  ministry.  He  was  simply 
a  citizen  of  the  commonwealth  of  Israel,  under  the  Law,  and  he 
was  walking  in  the  footsteps  of  his  people,  "  that  in  all  things 
he  might  be  made  like  unto  his  brethren "  "  of  the  seed  of 
Abraham." 

They  went  down  together,  the  son  of  Elizabeth  and  the  son 
of  Mary,  John  and  Jesus,  into  the  old  river  Jordan,  that 
neither  hastened  nor  slackened  its  current  at  their  coming ;  for 
the  Messianic  sign  was  not  to  be  from  the  waters  beneath,  but 
from  the  heavens  above. 

Hitherto  the  Jordan  had  been  sacred  to  the  patriotic  Jew  from 
its  intimate  connection  with  many  of  the  most  remarkable  events 
in  the  history  of  the  conunonwealth  and  of  the  kingdom.  An- 
other Jesus  ^  had  once  conveyed  the  people  from  their  wanderings 
across  this  river  dry  shod.  The  Jordan  had  separated  David 
and  his  pursuers  when  the  king  fled  from  his  usurping  son. 
Elijah  smote  it  to  let  him  and  Elisha  go  over,  and  erelong 
Elisha  returned  alone.  The  Jordan  was  a  long  silvery  thread, 
on  which  were  strung  national  memories  through  many  hundred 
years.  But  all  these  histories  Avere  outshone  hy  the  new  occur- 
rence. In  all  Christendom  to-day  the  Jordan  means  Christ's 
baptism.  Profoundly  significant  as  was  this  event,  the  first 
outward  step  l)y  which  Jesus  entered  upon  his  ministry,  it  was 
followed  by  another  still  more  striking  and  far  more  important. 
Jesus  ascended  from  the  Jordan  looking  up  and  praying.  (Lidce 
iii.  21.)  As  he  gazed,  the  sky  was  cleft  open,  and  a  beam  of 
light  flashed  forth,  and,  alighting  upon  him,  seemed  in  bodily 
shape  like  a  dove.  Instantly  a  voice  spake  from  out  of  heaven, 
"  This  is  my  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased."  (Matt, 
iii.  17.) 

'  In  the  Hebrew  the  name  Saviour  appears  under  the  different  forms  IIoshea 
(Os/iej),  Jehoshua  (Jushua),  later  Hebrew  Jeshua  (Greek  Jesus). 

^ -^ 


^- —ft 

THE    VOICE  IN   THE    WILDERNESS.  81 

We  knoAV  not  what  opening  of  soul  came  from  this  divine 
light.  We  know  not  what  cords  were  loosed  and  what  long- 
bound  attributes  unfolded,  —  as  buds  held  by  winter  unroll  in 
the  spring.  But  from  this  moment  Jesus  became  Tue  Christ! 
He  relinquished  his  home  and  ordinary  labors.  He  assumed 
an  authority  never  before  manifested,  and  moved  with  a  dignity 
never  afterward  laid  aside.  We  cannot,  by  analysis  or  anal- 
ogy, discern  and  set  forth  the  change  wrought  within  him  by 
the  descent  of  the  Hol}^  Ghost.  But  those  who  look  with  doubt 
upon  the  reality  of  any  great  exaltation  of  soul  divinely  inspired 
may  do  well  to  see  what  often  befalls  men. 

It  is  a  familiar  fact,  that  men,  at  certain  periods  of  their 
lives,  experience  changes  which  are  hke  another  birth.  The 
new  life,  when  the  passion,  and,  still  more  significantly,  when  the 
sentiment,  of  love  takes  full  possession  of  the  soul,  is  familiar. 
Great  men  date  their  birth  from  the  hour  of  some  great  inspi- 
ration. Even  from  human  sources,  from  individual  men,  and 
from  society,  electric  influences  dart  out  upon  susceptible  natures, 
which  change  their  future  history.  How  much  more  powerful 
should  this  be  if  there  is  a  Divine  Spirit!  K  secular  influence 
has  transforming  power,  how  much  more  divine  mfluence  !  The 
universal  belief  of  the  Church,  that  men  are  the  subjects  of  sud- 
den and  transforming  divine  influences,  is  borne  out  by  facts 
without  number.  The  most  extraordinary  and  interesting  phe- 
nomena in  mental  history  are  those  which  appear  in  religious 
conversions.  Men  are  ovei'whelmed  with  influences  to  which 
they  were  before  strangers.  Without  changing  the  natural  con- 
stitution of  the  mind,  the  balance  of  power  is  so  shifted  that 
dominant  animal  passions  go  under  the  yoke,  and  dormant 
moral  sentunents  spring  up  with  amazing  energy.  With  such 
sudden  transfonnations  within,  there  follows  a  total  outward 
revolution  of  manners,  morals,  actions,  and  aims.  Perhaps  the 
most  dramatic  instance  is  Paul's.  But  inward  changes,  without 
the  external  brilliancy,  have  been  made  in  thousands  of  men 
and  of  women,  full  as  thorough  and  transforming  as  that  of 
the  great  Apostle.  Indeed,  such  changes  are  no  longer  rare 
or  i-emai'kable.  They  are  common  and  familiar.  And  even 
though  we  should  join  those  who,  admitting  the  change,  account 
for  it  upon   the   lowest  theory  of  natural  principles,  the  main 

eg _ g] 


c0 -^ 

82  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

thing  which  we  have  in  view  would  still  l)e  gained ;  namely, 
to  show  that  the  human  soul  is  so  organized  that,  when  brought 
under  certain  influences,  it  is  susceptible  of  sudden  and  complete 
transformation. 

If  it  is  thus  impressible  at  the  hands  of  secular  influence,  how 
much  more  if  there  be  admitted  a  divine  energy,  as  it  were 
an  atmosphere  of  di\'ine  will,  in  which  all  material  Avorlds  float, 
and  out  of  which  pli3-sical  laws  themselves  flow,  as  rills  and 
rivers  from  an  inexhaustible  resers^ou- ! 

But  the  soul  upon  which  the  Spirit  descended  over  the  Jordan 
was  divine.  It  was  a  divine  nature,  around  which  had  been 
bound  cords  of  restraint,  now  greatly  loosened,  or  even  snapped, 
by  the  sacred  flame ;  with  attributes  repressed,  self-infolded,  but 
which  now,  at  the  celestial  touch,  were  roused  to  something 
of  their  pristine  sweep  and  power. 

All  before  this  has  been  a  period  of  waiting.  Upon  his  ascent 
from  the  Jordan,  Jesus  the  Christ,  indued  with  power  by  the 
Holy  Spirit,  steps  into  a  new  sphere.  He  is  now  to  appear  l^efore 
his  people  as  a  divine  teacher,  to  authenticate  his  high  claims 
by  acts  so  far  above  human  power  that  they  shall  evince  the 
Divine  presence ;  and,  finally,  to  be  ofiered  up,  through  suffer- 
ing unto  death,  as  a  sacrifice  for  sin,  —  the  one  victim  which 
shall  forever  supersede  all  other  sacrifices.  Here,  then,  upon 
the  banks  of  the  Jordan,  begins  the  new  dispensation. 

There  is  a  remarkable  sj^mmetry  of  mystery  about  John. 
He  had  all  his  life  hved  apart  from  society,  imknowing  and 
unknown.  Standing  by  the  side  of  the  Jordan,  he  made  him- 
self felt  in  all  Judaea  and  throughout  Galilee.  The  wise  men 
of  his  time  sought  in  vain  to  take  his  measure.  Like  all  men 
who  seek  to  reduce  moral  truth  to  exact  fonns  and  propor- 
tions, the  Pharisees  had  their  gauge  and  mould,  and  John  would 
not  fit  to  any  of  them.  K  he  was  not  Messiah,  or  Elias,  or 
that  prophet,  he  might  as  well  have  been  nobody.  They  could 
not  understand  him  ;  and  when  he  described  himself  as  a  voice 
to  men's  consciences  from  the  wilderness,  it  must  have  seemed 
to  his  questioners  either  insanity  or  mockery. 

We  are  better  informed  of  his  true  natm-e  and  purposes ;  yet 
how  little  of  his  disposition,  of  his  personal  appearance  and  habits, 
the  style  of  his  discourse,  his  struggles  with  himself,  his   alter- 

^ ^ 


a- 


-a 


THE    VOICE  IN   THE    WILDERNESS. 


83 


nations  of  hope  and  fear,  do  we  know !  Looking  back  for  the 
man  who  moved  the  whole  of  Palestine,  we  can  say  only  that 
he  was  the  Voice  from  the  wilderness.  Though  the  history 
of  our  Lord  will  require  some  further  notice  of  John  by  and 
by,  yet  we  may  here  appropriately  finish  what  little  remains 
of  his  personal  history. 

He  continued  to  preach  and  to  baptize  for  some  time  after 
Christ  entered  upon  his  mission,  ascending  the  Jordan  from 
near  Jericho,  where  it  is  supposed  that  he  began  his  baptismal 
career,  to  Bethany  (not  Bethabara),  beyond  Jordan,  and  then, 
still  higher,  to  ^Enon.  His  whole  ministry  is  computed  to  have 
been  something  over  two  years.  Herod  Antij^as  had  long  looked 
Avith  a  jealous  eye  upon  John's  influence.  No  man  who  could 
call  together  and  sway  such  multitudes  as  John  did  would  be 
looked  upon  with  favor  by  an  Oriental  despot.  It  only  needed 
one  act  of  fidelity  on  the  prophet's  part  to  secure  his  arrest. 


John  publicly  denounced  the  wickedness  of  Herod,  and  particu- 
larly his  indecent  marriage  with  his  brother  Philip's  wife,  Hero- 


^ 


4 


[0 a 

84  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

dias,  who  eloped  from  Philip  to  marry  Herod  Antipas.  John 
was  imprisoned  in  the  castle  of  Macha3rus,  which  stood  on  the 
perpendicular  cliffs  of  one  of  the  streams  emptying  into  the 
Dead  Sea  from  the  east,  and  not  far  from  its  shores.  There 
John  must  have  remained  in  captivity  for  a  considerable  period 
of  time.  It  was  not  Herod's  intention  to  do  him  further  harm. 
But  Herodias  could  not  forgive  the  sting  of  his  public  rebuke, 
and  watched  for  his  destruction.  Not  long,  however,  had  she 
to  wait.  By  her  voluptuous  dancing  upon  a  state  occasion,  at 
a  banquet,  the  daughter  of  Herodias  won  from  the  king  the 
boon  of  choosing  her  own  reward.  Instructed  by  her  vindictive 
mother,  she  demanded  the  head  of  John.  With  a  passing  re- 
gret, the  promise  was  kept,  —  and  the  feast  went  on.  John's 
disciples  buried  his  body.  Thus  ended  the  earthly  life  of  this 
child  of  promise,  —  the  solitary  hermit,  the  ardent  reformer,  the 
last  pi'ophet  of  the  Old  Testament  line. 

It  was  upon  these  mountains  of  Moab,  or  in  their  ravines, 
that  Moses  was  buried.  Thus  the  first  great  prophet  of  Israel 
and  the  last  one  were  buried  near  to  each  other,  outside  of 
the  Promised  Land,  amidst  those  dark  hills  beyond  Jordan  and 
the  Dead  Sea. 

There  is  a  striking  analogy,  also,  in  another  respect.  Moses 
came  only  to  the  border  of  the  Promised  Land,  the  object  of  his 
whole  life's  labor.  He  looked  to  the  north,  to  the  west,  to  the 
south,  over  the  whole  of  it.  "  I  have  caused  thee  to  see  it 
with  thine  eyes,  but  thou  shalt  not  go  over  thither." 

John  had  gone  before  the  promised  Messiah,  to  prepare  his 
way,  and  to  bring  in  the  new  dispensation.  But  he  himself 
was  not  permitted  to  enter  ujjon  it.  Out  of  his  prison  he 
sent  to  Jesus  an  anxious  inquiry,  "  Art  thou  he  that  should 
come,  or  look  we  for  another  ?  "  The  account  which  his  disci- 
ples brought  back  must  have  assured  his  lonely  heart  that  the 
Messiah  had  come.  His  spirit  beheld  the  dawning  day  of 
holiness,  and  was  dismissed. 

Until  this  day  no  one  knows  where  either  Moses  or  John  was 
buried.     They  were  alike  in  the  utter  hiding  of  then-  graves. 


^ 


We  have   already   spoken    of  the   nature   of  John's   baptism. 
The  question  arises,  Why  should  Jesus  be  boptiy.ed  ?     His  I'eply 


-ff 


-a 


THE    VOICE  IX  THE    WILDERNESS.  85 

was,  "  Thus  it  hccometh  us  to  fulfil  all  rit/ktcousness."  But  baptism 
was  not  a  part  of  the  Jewish  service.  Even  if  proselytes 
were  baptized  into  the  Jewish  church,  there  is  no  evidence 
that  a  Jew  was  recjuired  to  be  baptized  at  any  period  of  his  hfe. 
We  are  not  to  confound  the  washings  of  the  Levitical  law  with 
baptisms,  which  were  totally  different.  It  certainly  could  not 
be  a  baptism  of  repentance  to  Jesus  in  the  same  sense  that 
it  is  to  all  others.  Very  many  solutions  have  been  given  of 
this  perplexing  question.^ 

Every  man  who  has  been,  like  John,  successful  in  arousing 
men  from  evil  and  leading  them  toward  a  higher  life,  has 
noticed  that  repentance  always  takes  on  at  first  the  form  of 
turning  from  evil,  rather  than  of  taking  hold  on  good.  To  part 
with  sweet-hearted  sins,  to  forsake  and  break  up  evil  habits, 
especially  habits  formed  upon  the  passions  and  appetites,  re- 
quires vehement  exertion.  As  this  is  ordinarily  the  first  ex- 
perience in  repentance,  and  usually  the  most  sudden  and 
painful  one,  while  righteousness  is  gradual  both  in  fact  and 
fruition,  so  it  is  not  surprising  that  the  popular  idea  of  repent- 
ance should  be  the  forsaking  of  evil  To  "  break  off  one's  sins 
by  righteousness"  is  a  later  knowledge.  And  yet  this  is  the 
very  core  and  marrow  of  repentance.  It  is  the  rising  from 
grossness  mto  refinement,  from  selfishness  into  universal  good- 

'  Meyer  gives  a  digest  of  the  various  opinions  wliich  have  been  held  concerning  Chri:  fs 
baptism:  — "Jesus  did  not  come  to  be  baptized  fi-om  a  feeling  of  personal  sinfulness 
(Bruno  Bauer,  oomp.  Strauss) ;  nor  because,  according  to  the  Levitical  law,  his  personal 
connection  with  an  impure  people  rendered  him  impure  (Lange)  :  nor  for  the  purpose  of 
showing  that  there  was  no  incompatibility  between  his  aap^  aadevdai  and  life  in  the 
Spirit  (Hoiiiuan,  Weissagung  und  Erfiillung,  Vol.  II.  p.  82)  ;  nor  because  baptism  im- 
plied a  declaration  of  being  subject  to  a  penalty  of  death  (Ebrard)  ;  nor  m  order 
to  elicit  the  Divine  declaration  that  he  was  the  Blessiah  (Paulas) ;  nor  to  confirm  the 
Jaith  of  his  followers,  insomuch  as  baptism  was  a  symbol  of  the  regeneration  of  his  dis- 
ciples (Annnon  L.  J.,  Vol.  I.  p.  268)  ;  nor  to  sanction  the  ba])tism  of  John  by  his  example 
(Kuinoel,  Kern)  ;  nor  to  indicate  his  obligations  to  obey  the  law  (Hoffman,  Krobbe. 
Osiander)  ;  nor,  lastly,  because  before  the  descent  of  the  Spirit  he  acted  like  any  other 
ordinary  Israelite  (Hess,  Kuhn,  conip.  Olshausen). 

"The  true  explanation  of  this  act,  as  furnished  in  verse  15,  is,  that  as  the  Messiah  he 
felt  that,  according  to  the  Divine  will,  he  had  to  submit  to  the  baptism  of  his  forerunner, 
in  order  to  receive  the  divine  declaration  of  his  Messianic  dignity  (verses  16,  17). 

"  It  was  not  in  baptism  that  he  first  became  conscious  of  his  dignity  as  the  Messi<xli,  as 
if  by  that  act  he  had  been  inwardlv  transformed  into  the  Messiah  ;  the  expression  '  thus 
it  b'ecometh  us'  (verse  1.5)  implies  that  he  was  conscious  of  being  the  Messiah,  and  of 
the  relation  in  which,  as  such,  John  stood  toward  hun."  —  Quoted  by  Lange,  on  Matthew, 
Chapter  IH. 


^ 


-ff 


e- 


86  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE  CHRIST. 

will,  from  passion  to  sentiment,  —  in  short,  from  the  flesh  into 
the  spirit. 

Ecpentance,  in  its  last  analysis,  is  rising  from  a  lower  life 
into  a  higher  one,  and  to  a  holy  being  this  would  be  the 
side  first  seen  and  most  valued.  To  the  eye  of  John,  the 
multitude  who  were  baptized  by  him,  "  confessing  their  sins," 
were  forsaking  evil.  In  the  sight  of  Christ,  they  were  coming 
to  a  higher  and  better  life. 

Imagine,  then,  the  sympathy  of  Jesus  for  these  things.  What^ 
ever  would  carry  forward  the  work  should  be  favored.  He, 
too,  though  he  had  no  sins  to  repent  of,  had  higher  attainments 
to  make.  "The  Captain  of  our  salvation  was  made  perfect 
through  suffering."  Even  though,  in  his  full  and  original  nature, 
he  was  God,  yet  while  in  humiliation,  and  robbed,  as  it  were, 
of  the  full  disclosure  of  his  own  attributes,  he  must  go  through 
the  unfolding  process,  and  rise  from  step  to  step  of  spiritual 
experience. 

A  baptism  to  a  higher  life  would  probably  be  Christ's  interpre- 
tation of  John's  baptism  for  himself  And  he  submitted  to  it, 
as  one  of  the  great  multitude.  "  It  becometh  vs.''  He  joined 
the  movement ;  he  added  his  example  to  the  good  work  going 
on.  Others  repented,  —  or  turned  from  evil  to  good  ;  Jesus  only 
advanced  from  point  to  point  in  a  line  of  gracious  develop- 
ment. That  which  repentance  means,  in  its  true  spirit,  namely, 
the  rising  from  lower  to  higher  moral  states,  Jesus  experienced 
m  common  with  the  multitude  ;  although  he  had  not,  like  them, 
any  need  of  the  stings  of  remorse  for  past  misconduct  to  drive 
him  upward.     Repentance  is  but  another  name  for  aspiration. 


^ ff 


0- 


MOUNT  QUARANTANIA.  NEAK  JERICHO. 


CHAPTER    VI. 


THE    TEMPTATION. 


AT  every  step  the  disclosure  of  the  life  of  Jesus  was  a  sur- 
prise. He  came  into  the  wox'kl  as  no  man  would  imagine 
that  a  Divine  person  would  come.  His  youth  was  spent  with- 
out exhibitions  of  singular  power.  His  entrance  upon  public 
life  was  unostentatious.  His  baptism,  to  all  but  John,  was  like 
the  baptism  of  any  one  of  the  thousands  that  thronged  the 
Jordan. 

Shall  he  now  shine  out  with  a  full  disclosure  of  himself? 
Shall  he  at  once  ascend  to  Jerusalem,  and  in  the  greatness  of 
his  Divinity  make  it  apparent  to  all  men  that  he  is  indeed  the 
very  Messiah  ? 

This  was  not  the  Divine  method.  It  was  not  by  a  surprise 
of  the  senses,  nor  by  exciting  mere  wonder  among  imthinking 
men,  that  Jesus  would  make  plain  his  Divine  nature.  It  was  by 
evolving  a  sweeter  and  nobler  life  than  man  ever  does,  and  in 
circumstances  even  more  adverse  than  fall  to  the  lot  of  man, 
that  his  nature  was  to  be  shown. 


[&■ 


i 


[fi- 

88  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

It  is  not  strange  to  us,  now  well  instructed  in  the  spirit  of 
Christ's  mission,  that  he  did  not  enter  at  once  upon  his  work 
of  teaching.  Midway  between  his  private  life,  now  ended,  and 
his  public  ministry,  about  to  begin,  there  was  to  be  a  long  and 
silent  discipline.  The  three  narratives  of  the  Temptation,  by 
Matthew,  Mark,  and  Luke,  lift  us  at  once  into  the  region  of 
mystery.  We  find  ourselves  beyond  our  depth  at  the  first  step, 
and  deep  follows  deep  to  the  end.  The  mystery  of  that  Divine 
Spirit  which  possessed  the  Saviour,  the  mystei-y  of  forty  days' 
conflict  in  such  a  soul,  the  mystery  of  the  nature  and  power 
of  Satan,  the  mystery  of  the  three  final  forms  into  Avhich  the 
Temptation  resolved  itself,  —  these  are  beyond  our  reach.  They 
compass  and  shroud  the  scene  with  a  kind  of  supernatural 
gloom.  The  best  solution  we  give  to  the  difficulties  will  cast 
but  a  twilight  upon  the  scene. 

It  has  been  supposed  by  many  that  the  Temptation  took 
place  among  the  solitary  mountanis  of  Moab,  beyond  the  Jor- 
dan. It  was  thither  that  Moses  resorted  for  his  last  and  long- 
ing look  over  the  Promised  Land ;  and  it  would  certainly  give 
us  a  poetic  gratification  if  we  could  believe  that  the  "  exceed- 
ing high"  mountain,  from  which  the  glory  of  the  world  flashed 
upon  the  Saviour's  view,  was  that  same  sunnnit  upon  which  his 
type,  the  great  prophet  Moses,  had  stood,  thus  singularly  mak- 
ing the  same  peak  behold  the  beginning  of  the  two  great  dis- 
pensations, that  of  the  Old  and  that  of  the  New  Testament. 
It  is  a  pleasant  fancy,  but  hardly  tnie  as  history.  Westward 
from  Jericho,  rising  in  places  with  steep  clifls  of  white  lime- 
stone fifteen  hundred  feet  in  height,  is  a  line  of  mountains, 
whose  irregular  and  rugged  tops  against  the  sky,  seen  from 
the  plains  of  the  Jordan,  present  a  noble  contrast  to  the  ordi- 
nary monotony  of  the  Judaean  hills.  One,  called  Quarantania, 
from  its  supposed  relation  to  the  forty  days  of  temptation, 
has  been  pointed  out  by  tradition  as  the  scene  of  the  Lord's 
conflict.  It  rises  high,  is  pierced  with  caves  and  gashed  with 
ravines,  and  is  solitary  and  wild  enough  to  have  been,  as  re- 
corded by  Mark,  a  lair  of  wild  beasts,  as  it  continues  to  be  to 
the  present  day. 

Into  the  solitude  of  this  mountain  in  the  wilderness  came 
Jesus,  under  the    same    guidance   as  that  which   convoyed    the 


t 


# 


[&- -^ 

THE   TEMPTATION.  89 

prophets  of  old.  Indeed,  we  must  dismiss  from  our  minds  mod- 
ern notions,  and  even  the  ideas  which  ruled  in  the  time  of  Jesus, 
and  go  back  to  the  days  of  Samuel,  of  Elijah,  and  of  Ezekiel, 
if  we  would  get  any  clew  to  the  imagery  and  the  spirit  of 
the  extraordinary  transaction  which  we  are  about  to  consider. 
Had  this  scene  been  recorded  of  some  of  the  prophets  hun- 
dreds of  years  before,  it  would  have  harmonized  admirably  with 
the  narratives  which  relate  the  old  prophetic  histories.  But  in 
the  later  days  of  Gospel  history  this  scene  of  temptation  is 
like  some  gigantic  boulder  drifted  out  of  its  place  and  historic 
relations,  and  out  of  sight  and  memory  of  the  clifls  to  which  in 
kind  it  belonged.  It  is  in  perfect  accord  with  the  elder  He- 
brew nature,  and  it  was  the  last  and  greatest  of  that  sublime 
series  of  prophetic  tableaux,  through  which  Hebrew  genius 
delivered  to  the  world  its  imperishable  contributions  of  moral 
truth. 

Like  the  seers  of  old,  Jesus  was  powerfully  excited  by  the 
descent  upon  him  of  the  Divine  Spirit.  There  were  all  the 
appearances  common  to  states  in  which  there  is  a  partial  sus- 
pension of  voluntary  action.  The  language  of  the  Evangelists  is 
significant.  Luke  says  :  "  And  Jesus,  being  full  of  tlic  TIoli/  Ghost, 
retiu'ued  from  Jordan,  and  was  led  by  the  Spirit  into  the  wil- 
derness" ("led  up,"  says  Matthew).  But  Mark's  language  is 
more  strikingly  significant  of  the  prophetic  orgasm :  "  And  im- 
mediately the  Spirit  driveth  him  into  the  wilderness."  This  is 
the  language  of  the  prophet-paroxysm.  Seized  with  an  irre- 
sistible impulse,  so  the  "  holy  men  of  old  "  were  impelled  by  the 
Spirit.  Thus  Ezekiel  says :  "  In  the  visions  of  God  liromjM  he 
me  into  the  land  of  Israel,  and  set  me  upon  a  very  high  moun- 
tain." (Ezek.  xl.  2.)  The  operation  of  the  Divine  inspiration 
upon  the  mind  of  Ezekiel  throws  important  light  ujjon  the 
philosophy  of  this  opening  scene  of  Christ's  ministry. 

We  believe  the  temptation  of  Christ  to  have  been  an  actual 
experience,  not  a  dream  or  a  parable,  in  which  his  soul,  illumined 
and  exalted  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  was  brought  into  personal 
conflict  with  Satan ;  and  the  conflict  was  none  the  less  real  and 
historic,  because  the  method  involved  that  extraordinary  ecstasy 
of  the  prophet-mind.  Of  the  peculiarities  of  the  prophetic  state 
we  shall  speak  a  little  further  on. 

^ -tf 


a ^ 

90  •   Tmi  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

The  whole  life  of  Christ  stands  between  two  great  spheres 
of  temptation.  The  forty  days  of  the  wilderness  and  the  mid- 
night in  the  garden  of  Gethsemane  are  as  two  great  cloiid- 
"•ates,  of  entrance  to  his  ministry  and  of  exit  from  it.  In  both 
scenes,  silence  is  the  predominant  quality. 

The  first  stage  of  the  Temptation  includes  the  forty  days  of 
fasting.  This  may  be  said  to  have  been  the  private  struggle 
and  personal  probation. 

The  forty  days  were  not  for  human  eyes.  If  the  history  of 
those  experiences  was  ever  spoken,  even  to  the  ear  of  John,  the 
most  receptive  of  the  disciples,  it  was  not  designed  lor  record 
or  publication.  It  is  more  probable  that  the  experience  was 
incommunicable.  Even  in  our  lower  sphere,  mental  conflicts 
cannot  be  adequately  reported.  The  vacillations  of  the  soul,  a 
full  expression  of  its  anxieties,  its  agonizing  suspense,  shame, 
remorse,  of  its  yearnings  and  ambitions,  cannot  be  uttered  or 
written.  For  the  word  "shame"  does  not  describe  the  expe- 
rience of  shame.  Nor  is  the  word  "love"  a  portrait  of  love. 
The  real  life  of  the  heart  is  always  unfolding  in  silence ;  and 
men  of  large  natures  carry  in  the  centre  of  their  hearts  a  se- 
cret garden  or  a  silent  wilderness.  But  in  how  much  greater 
degree  is  this  true  of  the  mystery  of  Christ's  temptation  in 
the  wilderness,  and  of  his  trial  in  Gethsemane  !  If  there  are 
no  heart-words  for  full   human  feeling,  how  much  less  for  di- 


\nne 


We  know  that  Jesus  grappled  with  the  powers  of  the  invis- 
ible Avorld,  and  that  he  was  victorious.  His  life  in  the  wilder- 
ness is  not  to  be  imagined  as  the  retirement  of  a  philosophic 
hermit  to  contemplative  solitude.  The  cavernous  mountain  was 
not  merely  a  study,  in  which  our  Lord  surveyed  in  advance 
the  purposes  of  his  ministerial  life.  All  this,  doubtless,  formed 
a  part  of  his  experience  ;  but  there  was  more  than  studious 
leisure  and  natural  contemplation.  There  was  a  conflict  between 
his  soul  and  the  powers  of  darkness ;  a  sphere  of  real  energy,  m 
which  the  opposing  elements  of  good  and  evil  in  the  universe 
met  in  intense  opposition. 

Out  from  that  infinite  aerial  ocean  in  the  great  Obscure, 
beyond  human  life,  came  we  know  not  what  winds,  what  im- 
measurable and  sweeping  forces  of  temptation.     But  that  the 


ft 


THE   TEMPTATION.  ,  91 

power  and  kingdom  of  tlie  Devil  were  there  concentrated  upon 
him,  was  the  belief  of  his  disciples  and  the  teaching  of  the 
Apostles,  and  it  is  the  faith  of  the  Christian  Church.  It  is  not 
needful  for  us  to  understand  each  struggle  and  its  victory.  It 
is  enough  for  us  to  know,  that  in  this  unfriendly  solitude  every 
faculty  in  man  that  is  tried  in  ordinary  life  was  also  tested  and 
proved  in  Jesus. 

He  was  "  tempted  in  all  poitiis,"  or  faculties,  as  we  are,  though 
not  with  the  same  means  and  implements  of  temptation.  No 
human  being  will  ever  be  tried  in  appetite,  in  passion,  in  affec- 
tion, in  sentiment,  in  will  and  reason,  so  severely  as  was  the 
Lord;  and  his  victory  was  not  simply  that  he  withstood  the 
particular  blasts  that  rushed  upon  him,  but  that  he  tested  the 
utmost  that  Satan  could  do,  and  was  able  to  bear  up  against 
it,  and  to  come  off  a  conqueror,  —  every  faculty  stamped  with 
the  sign  of  invincibility. 

The  proof  of  this  appeared  in  all  his  career.  The  members 
of  his  soul  were  put  to  the  same  stress  that  sinful  men  experi- 
ence in  daily  life.  There  may  be  new  circumstances,  but  no 
new  temptations ;  there  may  be  new  cunning,  new  instruments, 
new  conditions,  but  nothing  will  send  home  temptation  with 
greater  force  than  he  experienced,  or  to  any  part  of  the  soul 
not  assaulted  in  him.  Through  that  long  battle  of  life  in  which 
every  man  is  engaged,  and  in  every  mood  of  the  struggle  which 
men  of  aspiration  and  moral  sense  make  toward  perfect  holi- 
ness, there  is  an  inspiration  of  comfort  to  be  derived  from  the 
example  of  Christ.  In  places  ihe  most  strange,  and  m  the 
desolate  way  where  men  dwell  with  the  wild  beasts  of  the  pas- 
sions, if  there  be  but  a  twilight  of  faith,  we  shall  find  his  foot- 
step, and  know  that  he  has  been  there,  —  is  there  again,  living 
over  anew  in  us  his  own  struggles,  and  saying,  with  the  author- 
ity of  a  God  and  the  tenderness  of  a  father :  "  In  the  world  ye 
shall  have  tribulation  ;  but  be  of  good  cheer ;  I  have  overcome 
the  world."  The  world  is  a  better  place  to  live  in,  since  Christ 
suffered  and  triumphed  in  it. 

We  pass  now  to  another  form  of  the  Temptation.  It  was 
no  longer  to  be  a  private  and  personal  scrutiny.  Jesus  had 
baffled  the  tempter,  and  driven  him  back  from  the  gate  of 
every  emotion.     But  Jesus  was  not  to  be  a  private  citizen.     He 

^ ^ ^ 


0- ^ 

92  .     THi:  LIFE  OF  JESUS,   THE  CHRIST. 

had  a  transcendent  work  to  perform,  of  teaching  and  of  suffer- 
ing. His  hands  were  to  bear  more  largely  than  before  the 
power  of  God.  Since  the  descent  upon  him  of  the  Spirit  on  the 
banks  of  the  Jordan,  the  hidden  powers  of  his  nature  were 
springing  into  activity.  Only  when  he  was  prepared  to  lay 
aside  the  clog  of  an  earthly  body,  could  he  be  clothed  again 
with  all  that  glory  which  he  had  with  the  Father  before  the 
world  was.  But  the  entrance  upon  his  public  ministry  was  to 
be  signalized,  if  not  by  the  disclosure  of  his  full  nature,  yet  by 
an  ampler  intelligence  and  a  wider  scope  of  power.  Tropical 
plants  in  northern  zones,  brought  forward  under  glass,  their 
roots  compressed  to  the  size  of  the  gai'dener's  pot,  and  their  tojjs 
pruned  back  to  the  dimensions  of  the  green-house,  are  at  mid- 
sunnner  turned  out  into  the  open  ground,  and  there  shoot  forth 
with  new  life  and  vigor ;  and  yet  never,  in  one  short  August, 
attain  to  the  grandeur  of  their  native  tropical  growth.  So  this 
Heavenly  Palm,  dropped  down  upon  Palestine,  dwarfed  by  child- 
hood and  youth,  shot  forth  new  growth  when  enfranchised  by 
the  Holy  Spirit ;  and  yet  could  not  in  this  climate,  in  the 
short  summer  of  human  life,  swell  to  the  full  proportions  of  its 
celestial  life. 

These  swellings  of  power,  this  new  radiance  of  intelligence, 
were  to  be  employed  according  to  the  law  of  Heaven  ;  and  to 
this  end  was  permitted  that  dramatic  threefold  temptation  with 
Avhich  the  scene  in  the  wilderness  closes. 

We  have  already  said  that  the  three  closing  temptations  of 
Christ  are  to  be  regarded,  not  as  parables,  but  as  prophetic  vis- 
ions. They  were  historical  events,  but  in  the  same  sense  as  the 
visions  of  Isaiah  or  of  Ezekiel  were  historical.  Jesus  was  a  He- 
brew, and  stood  in  the  line  of  the  Hebrew  prophets.  However 
fantastic  the  scenery  and  the  action  of  the  closing  temptations 
may  seem  to  modern  thought,  they  were  entirely  congruous  with 
the  Hebrew  method  of  evolving  the  highest  moral  truths.  Nor 
can  we  fully  appreciate  them  without  some  knowledge  of  the 
prophetic  ecstitsy. 

The  prophet-mind,  in  its  highest  moods,  hung  in  a  trance 
between  the  real  physical  life  and  the  equally  real  spiritual 
state.  The  inspiration  of  those  moods  seems  to  have  carried 
up   the   mind   far   beyond   its  ordinary  instruments.     Not  ideas, 

^ ^ 


[fi- -a 

THE   TEMPTATION.  93 

but  pictures,  were  before  it.  The  relations  of  time  and  place 
seemed  to  disappear.  The  prophet,  though  stationary,  seemed 
to  himself  to  be  ubiquitous.  He  was  borne  to  distant  nations, 
made  the  circuit  of  kingdom,s,  held  high  conference  with  mon- 
archs,  saw  the  events  of  empires  disclosed  as  in  a  glass.  His 
own  body  often  became  unconscious.  He  lost  ordinary  siu-ht 
of  the  physical  world.  He  slept.  He  swooned.  For  long  peri- 
ods of  time  he  neither  hungered  nor  thirsted.  Tlie  prophets  saw 
visions  of  the  spirit-land.  Angels  conversed  with  them.  The 
throne  of  God  blazed  full  upon  their  dazzled  eyes. 

More  wonderful  still  was  the  symbolization  employed  in  this 
prophetic  state.  All  the  globe  became  a  text-book.  Beasts 
were  symbols  of  kings  or  of  kingdoms.  Floods,  Avhirlwinds,  and 
earthquakes  moved  in  procession  before  them  as  types  of  events 
in  history.  The  rush  and  might  of  human  passions,  revolutions, 
and  wars,  were  written  for  them  in  signs  of  fire  and  blood. 
Captivity  and  dispersion  were  set  forth  in  the  goi'geous  imagery 
of  storm-driven  clouds ;  of  the  sun  and  moon  stamed  with  blood ; 
of  stars,  panic-stricken,  like  defeated  warriors,  rushing  headlong 
through  the  heavens. 

How  little  are  the  close-cut  wings  of  the  modern  imagination 
prepared  to  follow  the  circuits  of  men  who  dwelt  in  this  upper 
picture-world,  where  the  reason  was  inspired  through  the  im- 
agination !  Physical  science  has  as  yet  no  analogue  for  such 
moods.  The  alembic  says,  It  is  not  in  me ;  the  rocks  and  soil 
say,  It  is  not  in  us.  Poets,  nearest  of  any,  are  in  sympathy 
with  the  prophets ;  but  they  mostly  sing  in  the  boughs,  low 
down,  and  not  from  the  clear  air  above.  The  whole  life  of  the 
prophet  Avas  absorbed  into  an  intense  spiritual  intuition. 

The  moral  faculties  of  the  human  soul  have  this  suscepti- 
bility to  ecstatic  exaltation,  and  therefore  the  jirophetic  mood 
was  in  so  far  natural.  But  these  faculties  never  unfold  into  the 
ecstatic  visions  of  prophecy  except  by  the  direct  impulse  of 
the  Divine  power.  And  herein  the  prophetic  differs  from  the 
merely  poetic. 

If  the  prophets  had  left  only  these  gigantic  frescoes,  we  might 
pass  them  by  as  the  extraordinary  product  of  fantasy.  But 
this  was  the  prophetic  style  of  thinking.-  Out  of  all  this  won- 
derful commixture  came  the  jirofoundest  teaching  in  regard  to 

^ -^ 


a a 

94  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE  CHRIST. 

national  morality,  the  most  advanced  views  of  their  times  as  to 
personal  purity  and  dignity-,  the  moTf?t  terrible  invectives  against 
dishonor  in  the  individual  and  corruption  in  the  government. 
Those  clouds  and  Hames  and  storms,  those  girdles  and  j-okes 
and  tiails,  tliose  trumpets  and  voices  and  thunders,  were  only 
so  many  letters  by  which  were  S2>elled  out,  not  merely  the  no- 
blest spiritual  truths  of  the  prophets'  age,  but  truths  which  are 
the  glory  of  all  ages.  Men  often  are  glad  of  the  fruit  of  the 
prophetic  teaching,  wlio  reject  -with  contempt'  the  methods  by 
which  prophets  taught. 

The  eill'c't  becomes  ludicrous  when  modern  interpreters,  not 
content  with  a  disclosure  of  the  ruling  thouglit,  attempt  to 
transform  the  whole  gorgeous  picture  into  modern  equivalents, 
to  tra'nslate  every  sign  and  symbol  into  a  literal  fact.  Some 
have  thouglit  that  prophets  were  insane.  They  were  always 
rational  enough  in  their  own  Avays.  It  has  been  the  interpi-et- 
ers  and  commentators  who  have  gone  crazy.  The  attempt  of 
men  to  work  up  the  Song  of  Solomon  into  church-going  apparel 
is  folly  past  all  conceit.  Spelling  Hebrew  words  with  English 
letters  is  not  translation.  Solomon's  Song,  in  our  modern  expo- 
sition, would  have  put  Solomon  and  all  his  court  into  amaze- 
ment. Who  can  reproduce  the  opalesque  visions  of  Ezekiel  and 
Hosea  in  the  lustreless  language  of  modern  days  ?  If  men  were 
to  attempt  Avith  brick  and  mortar  to  build  a  picture  of  the  aiu'o- 
ral  lights,  it  would  scarcely  be  more  absurd  than  the  attemjit  to 
find  modern  equivalents  for  every  part  of  the  sublime  Apoca- 
lypse of  St.  John.  Let  every  nation  think  in  its  own  language. 
Let  every  period  have  its  own  method  of  inspiration.  As  we  do 
not  attempt  to  build  over  again  Egyptian  temples  in  American 
cities,  new  pyramids  on  our  prairies,  but  allow  those  sublime 
memorials  to  remain  where  they  belong,  symbols  of  the  thought 
of  ages  ago,  so  we  are  to  let  the  old  prophets  stand  in  their 
solitary  grandeur. 

Like  the  prophets  of  earlier  days,  Jesus  fasted  long,  and,  shut- 
ting out  external  scenes,  except  such  as  belonged  to  the  most 
solitary  phases  of  nature,  he  rose  at  length  to  the  vision  state ; 
for  as  in  oratorios,  the  overture  foreshadows  in  brief  the  con- 
trolling spirit  and  action  of  the  whole  performance,  so  in  the 
three  trial  points  which  close  the  Temptation,  there  would  seem 

^ ■ ^ 


a 

THE  TEMPTATION.         '  95 

to  be  a  foreshadowing  of  the  trials  which  through  his  whole 
career  would  beset  Jesus  in  the  use  of  Divine  power. 

It  is  impossible  for  us  to  strive  too  earnestly  to  gain  some  idea 
of  this  mystery.  Yet,  with  all  our  powers  of  sympathy  and  im- 
atrination,  we  cannot  enter  vividly  into  the  condition  of  a  pure 
bein"-,  come  into  the  world  from  the  bosom  of  God  to  take  the 
place  of  a  subject  and  of  suffering  man.  He  was  "plagued  as 
others  are";  he  was  poor  and  dependent  on  friends  for  very 
bread,  and  yet  was  conscious  of  carrying  within  himself  a 
power  by  which  the  whole  world  should  fly  to  serve  him  ;  he 
was  in  disgrace,  the  pity  of  the  ignorant  and  the  scorn  of  the 
great,  and  yet  held  in  his  hand  that  authority  by  which,  at  a 
word,  the  very  stars  should  pi-aise  him,  and  his  brightness  out- 
shine the  utmost  pomp  of  kings ;  he  was  counted  with  servants, 
and  yet  conscious  of  infinite  dignity  ;  he  was  hated,  hunted, 
persecuted,  even  unto  death,  —  a  death,  too,  which  then  sug- 
gested turpitude  and  ignominy, —  and  yet  possessed,  unused,  a 
power  which  made  him  superior  to  all  and  more  powerful  than 
ah.  Such  experiences  might  well  require  beforehand  that  train- 
ing and  divine  instruction  by  which  the  Captain  of  our  salvation 
was  to  be  made  perlect. 

Weary  with  watching,  and  spent  with  hunger,  he  beholds 
the  Adversary  approach.  "  If  thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  command 
that  these  stones  be  made  bread."  This  scene  will  be  desecrated 
if  we  cannot  rise  above  the  gross  materialism  of  the  Latin 
Church.  Contrast  the  awful  simplicity  of  Christ's  teachings  re- 
specting evil  spirits  with  the  grotesque  and  hideous  representa- 
tions of  the  mediaeval  ages.  The  Romans,  it  is  probable,  derived 
this  taint  of  the  imagination  from  the  old  Tuscans,  to  whom,  if 
we  may  judge  from  what  remains  of  their  arts,  the  future  was 
a  paradise  of  horrors.^     This  sensuousness  of  imagination,  and 

'  "  The  predominating  feature  of  the  Etruscan  nation,  a  feature  which  had  been  tlie 
result  of  a  natural  disposition,  and  principally  of  a  sacerdotal  system  very  skilfully  com- 
bined was  a  gloomy  and  cruel  superstition.  The  science  of  the  aruspices  and  the  dis- 
cipline of  the  augurs  were,  as  is  well  known,  of  Etruscan  invention  ;  it  was  from  Etruria 
that  this  kind  of  superstition,  reduced  to  a  system  carefully  drawn  up,  was  imported  at 
an  early  period  into  Rome,  where  it  became  the  I'eligion  of  the  state,  and,  as  such,  intol- 
erant and  absolute ;  while  in  Greece  ideas  originally  similar,  but  removed  at  an  early 
period  from  the  exclusive  dominion  of  the  priests,  exercised  through  the  means  of  oracles 
and  great  national  festivities,  which  continually  pLaced  tlie  people  in  movement  and  the 
citizens  in    connection  one  with  the  other,  —  exercised,  I  say,  no  other  influence   and 

rj]  .    ^ -^ 


^ ^ 

96  T/IH;  LIFE  OF  JESUS,  THE  CHRIST. 

cruel  conception  of  the  future,  p.assed  into  the  Eoman  Christian 
Church. 

The  sublime  conception  of  the  Evil  One  as  an  intelligent 
prince,  who  would  organize  the  world  for  selfish  pleasure,  and 
who  perpetually  strives  to  bring  down  spirit  to  matter  and  life 
to  mere  sense,  the  everlasting  antagonist  of  the  God  of  love 
and  of  pure  spirit,  gives  place  in  the  Roman  theology  to  those 
monstrous  images  whicli  have  but  the  single  attribute  of  hideous 
and  l)rutal  cruelty.  That  fatal  taint  has  corrupted  the  popu- 
lar idea  of  Satan  to  this  day.  He  is  not  a  mighty  spirit,  but 
a  sooty  monster,  an  infernal  vampire,  a  heathen  Gorgon.  The 
figures  of  the  Scripture,  which  in  their  place  are  not  mislead- 
ing, the  serpent  and  the  lion,  (figures  employed  by  Jesus  to 
inculcate  qualities  becoming  even  in  Christians,)  joined  to  the 
herd  of  bestial  images  with  which  heathenism  —  the  heathen- 
ism of  a  degraded  Christianity  —  has  filled  the  world,  lapse  into 
excessive  grossness  and  vulgarity. 

Not  such  was  the  great  Tempter  of  the  wilderness.  He  might 
well  have  risen  upon  the  Saviour's  sight  as  fair  as  when,  after 
a  stormy  night,  the  morning  star  dawns  from  the  east  upon  the 
mariner,  —  "an  angel  of  light."  To  suppose  that  there  could 
be  any  temptation  experienced  by  Jesus,  at  the  solicitation  of 
such  a  Devil  as  has  been  pictured  by  the  imaginations  of 
monks,  is  to  degrade  him  to  the  level  of  the  lowest  natures. 
In  this  ecstatic  vision  we  may  suppose  that  there  arose  upon 
the  Saviour's  imagination  the  grandest  conception  of  reason  and 
of  wisdom.  It  was  not  meant  to  seem  a  temptation,  but  only 
a  rational  persuasion.  It  was  the  Spirit  of  this  World,  solicit- 
ing Jesus  to   employ  that  Di\ine   power  which  now   began  to 

at(iuire(l  no  otlior  authority  than  that  of  popuUir  loc;pncls  and  traditions.  With  this 
feature  of  the  national  character  in  ancient  Etruria,  a  feature  wliich  emanates  iioni  a 
primitive  disposition,  strenjithened  by  the  saeCrdotal  system,  we  shall  soon  see  how 
strongly  impressed  are  all  the  monuments  of  this  people.  Hence  the  human  sacrifices 
which  were  for  a  long  time  in  use  there.  Hence  the  blood-stained  combats  of  gladiators, 
which  were  also  of  Etruscan  origin,  and  which,  after  having  been  for  a  long  time  a  game 
among  that  people,  became  a  passion  among  the  Romans.  Hence,  in  fine,  the  terrible 
images  made  to  inspire  terror  which  are  so  frequently  produced  on  the  monuments  of  this 
people, —  the  larva?,  the  phantoms,  the  monsters  of  all  kinds,  the  Scylla;,  the  Medusa, 
the  Furies  with  hideous  features,  and  Divine  justice  under  avenging  forms  ;  while  in 
Greece  milder  manners,  cultivated  by  a  more  humane  religion,  represented  death  under 
agreeable,  smiling,  and  almost  voluptuous  images."  —  Raoul  Rochette,  Lectures  on  Ancient 
Art,  translated  from  the  French,  (London,  1854,)  pp.  54,  55. 

^- ^ 


THE   TEMPTATION.  97 

efFulge  in  him,  for  secular  and  physical,  rather  than  for  moral 
and  spiritual  ends.  It  was,  if  one  might  so  say,  the  whole  self- 
ish spirit  of  time  and  history,  jileading  that  Jesus  should  work 
upon  matter  and  for  the  flesh,  rather  than  upon  the  soul  and 
for  the  spirit. 

"  If  thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  command  that  these  stones  be 
made  l)read." 

If  this  scene  were  historic  in  the  sense  of  an  ordinary  per- 
sonal history,  how  slight  to  a  divine  nature  would  be  the  temp- 
tation of  eating  bread,  and  how  harndess  the  act  solicited ! 
For  if  it  is  right  that  man  should  employ  his  faculties  in  rear- 
ing harvests  to  supply  necessary  food,  would  it  be  wrong  for 
the  Son  of  Man  to  employ  his  power  in  procuring  the  needed 
bread  ? 

But  as  a  vision  of  prophetic  ecstasy,  in  which  bread  is  the 
s}Tnbol  of  physical  life,  the  temptation  is  genuine  and  vital. 
'■  Draw  from  its  sheath  the  power  of  thine  omnipotence,  if  thou 
be  the  Son  of  God.  Come  forth  from  the  wilderness  as  the 
patron  of  physical  thrift.  Teach  men  inventions.  Multiply  har- 
vests. Cover  the  world  with  industry  and  wealth.  Nourish 
commerce.  Let  villages  grow  to  cities.  Let  harbors  swarm 
with  ships.  How  glorious  shalt  thou  be,  how  will  men  follow 
thee  and  all  the  world  be  subdued  to  thy  empire,  if  thou  Avilt 
command  the  very  stones  to  become  bread !  If  such  power  as 
thou  surely  hast  shall  inspire  even  the  dead  rocks  with  noui-- 
ishment,  Nature,  through  all  her  realm,  will  feel  the  new  life, 
and  seed  and  fruit,  vine  and  tree,  will  give  forth  a  glorious 
abundance,  and  the  wilderness  shall  blossom  as  the  rose." 

This  temptation,  interpreted  from  the  side  of  prophetic  sym- 
bolism, struck  the  very  key-note.  Shall  Jesus  be  simply  a  eiv- 
ilizer,  or  shall  he  come  to  develop  a  new  soul-life  ?  Is  it  to  give 
new  force  to  matter,  or  to  break  through  matter  and  raise  the 
human  soul  to  the  light  and  joy  of  the  great  spiritual  sphere 
beyond  ?  He  came  from  the  spirit-land  to  guide  the  uinermost 
soul  of  man,  through  matter,  to  victory  over  it. 

The  reply,  "  It  is  written,  Man  shall  not  live  by  bread  alone, 
but  by  every  word  that  proceedeth  out  of  the  mouth  of  God," 
is  the  precise  counterpart  and  repulsion  of  the  perverting  sug- 
gestion of  Satan.     ''  Men  do  not  need  that  to  be  strengthened 

^ tf 


fl -^ 

98  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,  THE  CHRIST. 

ill  them  wliicli  is  already  too  strong.  Not  silver  and  gold,  nor 
wine  and  oil,  nor  cities  and  kingdoms  great  in  riches,  will  raise 
my  bi'ethren  to  a  higher  manhood.  My  new  food  they  need, 
but  that  food  is  spirit-life.  The  word  of  love,  the  word  of 
mercy,  the  Avord  of  justice  and  holiness,  issuing  from  God,  —  on 
these  the  inner  life  of  man  must  feed." 

Was  not  this  single  temptation  a  glass,  in  which  he  saw  the 
Avhole  throng  of  temptations  that  would  meet  him  at  every 
turn,  namely,  of  absolute  power  used  for  immediate  and  per- 
sonal convenience  ?  We  do  not  enougli  consider  what  a  perpet- 
ual self-denial  would  be  required  to  carry  omnipotence,  imused 
and  poAverless,  amidst  the  urgent  requirements  of  a  life  vehe- 
mently pressed  with  motives  of  self-indulgence  in  its  mj^riad 
minor  forms. 

The  vision  passed  ;  but  another  rose  in  its  place.  Since  he 
woidd  not  employ  physical  power  for  jihysical  results,  since  men 
were  not  to  be  led  through  their  physical  wants,  but  through 
tlicir  spiritual  nature,  Jesus  was  next  solicited  to  let  the  spirit 
of  admiration  and  praise  be  the  genius  of  the  new  movement. 
And  now  the  vision  took  form.  There  stood  the  Temple,  and 
from  the  peak  of  the  roof  on  the  court  of  Solomon,  the 
plunge  downward,  over  the  cliflF,  to  the  deep  valley  below,  was 
fearful.  But  wonderful  indeed  would  it  be  if  one  casting  him- 
self doAvn  thither,  in  the  sight  of  priests  and  people,  should  be 
l)uoyed  up  by  invisil)le  hands,  and,  bird-like,  move  through  the 
air  unharaied. 

"If  thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  cast  thyself  down  from  hence; 
for  it  is  wa-itten. 

He  shall  give  his  angels  charge  over  thee,  to  keep  thee; 

And  in  their  hands  they  shall  bear  thee  up, 

Lest  at  any  time  thou  dash  thy  foot  against  a  stone." 

This  s\Tnbol,  as  a  trial  scene,  contains  not  only  an  appeal  to 
the  love  of  praise  in  Jesus,  but  an  appeal  to  the  princijjle  of 
admiration  in  the  multitude.  If  he  would  have  a  prosperous  fol- 
lowing and  an  easy  victory  over  the  Avorld,  let  him  become  the 
master  of  marvels.  Let  him  show  men  that  a  Divinity  was 
among  them,  not  by  the  inspiration  of  a  higher  life  in  their 
souls,  but  by  such  a  u.se  of  Divine  power  as  shovdd  captivate 
the  fanc}-  of  all  who  saw  the  wonders  of  skill,  of  beauty,  of 

^ i 


[p- -a 

THE   TEMPTATION.  99 

power  and  daring,  which  he  should  show.  Still  more,  let  hiin 
enaploy  his  Divine  power  to  shield  his  heart  from  the  contempt 
of  inferiors  who  were  outwardly  to  be  his  masters.  He  was  to 
be  a  servant,  when  he  knew  that  he  was  Lord ;  he  was  to  have 
not  where  to  lay  his  head,  —  birds  and  foxes  having  more 
rights  than  he.  He  was  to  be  surrounded  with  spies,  and 
pointed  at  as  a  Jew  without  love  of  country,  as  conniving 
with  Rome  and  undermining  the  Temple.  In  every  way,  his 
outward  inferiority  was  to  be  sharply  brought  home  to  him, 
and  that  instinctive  desire  of  all  right  soids,  to  be  held  in 
esteem,  was  to  be  painfully  excited.  One  flash  of  his  will, 
and  scoffs  Avould  become  hosaunas.  Let  him  employ  Divine 
power  for  the  production  of  jileasure  and  sui'prise  and  brilliant 
applause,  and  men  would  honor  him,  and  save  him  from  that 
undervaluing  contemjit  which  the  spirit  of  the  Temple  (on 
which  in  vision  he  stood)  was  yet  erelong  to  pour  upon  him. 

In  a  parallel  way,  the  apparition  from  the  mountain-top,  of  all 
the  glory  of  the  nations,  as  a  literal  fact  was  impossible  except 
by  a  miracle.  And  though  a  miracle  is  a  fact  wholly  withui 
the  bounds  of  reason,  yet  Ave  are  not  needlessly  to  convert  com- 
mon events  into  miracles.  There  is  no  such  mountain,  nor  on 
a  round  globe  can  be.  Besides,  as  a  direct  persuasion  to  wor- 
ship Satan,  it  would  be  worse  than  feeble,  it  would  be  puerUe. 
Far  otherwise  would  it  seem  in  a  prophetic  vision,  where,  as  a 
symbol,  it  was  to  the  real  truth  what  letters  and  sentences  are 
to  the  meaning  which  they  express.  The  impression  produced 
outruns  the  natural  force  of  the  symbol. 

There  was  a  tremendous  temptation  to  exhibit  before  men 
his  real  place  and  authority ;  to  appear  as  great  as  he  really 
was ;  to  so  use  his  energies  that  men  should  admit  him  to  be 
greater  than  generals,  higher  than  kings,  more  glorious  than 
Temple  or  Palace.  Li  that  mountain  vision  he  saw  the  line  of 
temptations  which  would  beat  in  upon  the  principle  of  self-es- 
teem, that  som'ce  and  fountain  of  ambition  among  men.  In  all 
three  of  these  final  outbursts  we  see  a  prophetic  representation 
of  temptations  addressed  to  his  public  and  ministerial  course. 
They  related  to  that  matter  of  transcendent  importance,  the 
carriage  and  uses  of  absolute  power.  He  was  in  danger  of 
breaking  through  the  part  which  he  had  undertaken.     He  must 

[ft ^ ^ 


a- -a 

J  00  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,   THE  CHRIST. 

keep  the  level  of  humanity,  not  in  moral  character  alone, 
but  in  the  whole  handling  of  his  Divinity.  Men  have  argued 
that  Christ  did  not  manifest  Divine  power;  forgetting  that  it 
was  to  lay  aside  his  governing  power,  and  to  humble  him- 
self as  a  man,  that  he  came  into  the  world.  With  men,  the 
difficulty  is  to  rise  into  eminence.  With  Jesus,  the  very  re- 
verse was  true.  To  keep  upon  the  level  of  humanity  was  his 
task,  and  to  rise  into  a  common  and  familiar  use  of  absolute 
power  Avas  his  danger. 

This  view  is  not  exhaustively  satisfactory.  No  view  is. 
Whichever  theory  one  takes  in  explaining  the  Temptation,  he 
must  take  it  with  its  painful  perplexities.  That  which  is  im- 
portant to  any  proper  consideration  of  the  obscure  sublimity 
of  this  mystery  is,  that  it  shall  be  a  temptation  of  the  Devil 
as  an  actual  personal  spirit;  that  it  .shall  be  a  real  temptation, 
or  one  that  put  the  faculties  of  Christ's  soid  to  task,  and  re- 
quired a  resistance  of  his  whole  natui-e,  as  other  temptations  do 
of  human  nature.  It  is  on  this  account  that  we  have  regarded 
the  Temptation  as  of  two  parts  or  series,  —  the  first,  a  personal 
and  private  conflict  running  through  forty  solitary  days  of  fast- 
ing in  the  wilderness;  and  the  second,  a  ministerial  trial,  rep- 
resented by  the  symbolism  of  the  bread,  the  Temple,  and  the 
mountain-top. 

It  is  not  because  we  think  the  literal  history  open  to  many 
of  the  objections  urged  that  we  prefer  the  theory  of  a  symbolic 
vision.  The  difficulty  sometimes  alleged,  that  the  Scrij^tnre  nar- 
rative clothes  Satan  with  transcendent  power,  is  not  a  valid 
objection,  unless  the  whole  spirit  of  the  New  Testament  on 
this  point  be  false  and '  misleading.  He  is  a  j^rince  of  power. 
Neither  is  it  an  objection  that  Christ  seemed  to  submit  to  his 
dictation.  For  Jesus  had  humbled  himself;  he  had  put  himself 
under  the  dominion  of  natural  law,  of  civil  rulers,  of  ecclesi- 
astical requirements ;  and  why  should  we  hesitate  to  accept 
this  experience  of  the  domineering  arm  of  the  Tempter? 

Nor  should  we  hesitate,  if  they  were  all,  at  the  feeble  ques- 
tions, "How  could  he  be  conveyed  to  the  Temple's  summit?" 
and,  "  How  would  it  be  possible  from  any  mountain-top  to  see 
the  Avliole  world,  or  any  considerable  part  of  it?"  If  the  temp- 
tation in  such  a  literal  manner  was    needful  and    appropriate, 

^ S 


<^ -a 

THE   TEMPTATION.  101 

there  can  be  no  doubt  that  there  was  miraculous  power  to  pro- 
duce its  conditions. 

But  we  disincline  to  the  literal  because  it  renders  Satan  a 
wretched,  puerile  creature,  shallow,  flippant,  and  contemptible. 
It  makes  it  impossible  that  Christ  should  have  been  tempted. 
Such  bald  suggestions  would  scarcely  have  power  to  move  a 
child.  They  would  be  to  Christ  what  a  fool's  bauble  would 
be  to  a  statesman  like  Cecil,  what  a  court  jester's  fribbles 
would  have  been  to  Bacon  or  to  Sully.  The  very  possibility 
of  tempting  such  a  one  as  Jesus  requires  that  Satan  should  be 
a  jiorson  of  some  grandeur  of  nature,  one  whose  suggestions 
should  indicate  a  knowledge  of  the  springs  of  the  human  heart, 
and  some  wisdom  in  acting  upon  them. 

The  practical  benefit  of  this  nn'sterious  and  obscure  passage 
in  the  life  of  Jesus  does  not  depend  upon  our  ability  to  re- 
duce it  by  analysis  to  some  equivalent  in  human  experience. 
It  is  enough  that  the  fact  stands  clear,  that  he  who  was  hence- 
forth to  be  the  spiritual  leader  of  the  race  came  to  his  power 
among  men  by  means  of  trial  and  suffering.  The  experience 
of  loneliness,  of  hunger,  and  of  weaiiness  for  forty  days,  of 
inward  strife  agamst  selfishness,  pride,  and  the  glittering  falsi- 
ties of  vanity,  brought  him  into  sympathy  with  the  trials 
through  which  must  pass  every  man  who  seeks  to  rise  out  of 
animal  conditions  into  a  true  manhood.  Suflering  has  slain  m^-r- 
iads ;  yet,  of  all  who  have  reached  a  true  moral  greatness,  not 
one  but  has  been  nourished  In'  suffering.  Perfection  and  suffer- 
ing seem,  in  this  sphere,  inseparabl}'  joined  as  effect  and  cause. 

Here  too,  in  this  strange  retirement,  we  behold  the  New  Man 
refusing  the  inferior  weapons  of  common  secular  life,  determined 
to  conquer  by  "  things  that  are  not,"  by  the  "invincible  might 
of  weakness,"  by  the  uplifting  force  of  humility,  by  the  secret 
energy  of  disinterested  love,  and  by  that  sublime  insight,  Faith, 
not  altogether  unknown  before,  but  Avhich  thereafter  was  to 
become  the  great  spiritual  force  of  history. 


^ S 


[fi- -a 


CHAPTER   VII. 

JESUS,   HIS  PERSONAL  APl'EAKANCE. 

NO  man  will  ever  succeed  in  so  reproducing  an  age  long  past 
that  it  shall  seem  to  the  beholder  as  it  did  to  those  who 
lived  in  it.  Even  if  one  is  in  possession  of  all  the  facts,  and  has 
skill  to  draw  a  perfect  picture,  he  cannot  prevent  our  looking 
upon  a  past  age  with  modern  eyes,  and  with  feelings  and  asso- 
ciations that  will  put  into  the  picture  the  coloring  of  our  own 
time.  But  we  can  approach  the  times  and  spirit  of  Roman 
life,  or  of  life  in  Athens  in  the  days  of  Socrates,  far  more 
readily  and  easily  than  we  can  the  JcAvish  life  in  the  time  of 
Christ.  He  was  of  the  Shemitic  race  ;  we  are  of  the  Japhetic. 
The  orderliness  of  our  thought,  the  regulated  perceptions,  the 
logical  arrangements,  the  rigorous  subordination  of  feeling  to 
volition,  the  supremacy  of  reason  over  sentiment  and  imagina- 
tion, which  characterize  our  day,  make  it  almost  impossible  for 
us  to  be  in  full  s^-mpathy  with  people  who  had  little  genius  for 
abstractions,  and  whose  thought  moved  in  such  association  with 
feeling  and  imagination  that  to  the  methodical  man  of  the  West 
much  of  Oriental  literature  which  is  most  esteemed  in  its  home 
seems  like  a  glittering  dream  or  a  gorgeous  fantasy. 

But  the  attempt  to  reproduce  the  person  and  mind  of  Jesus, 
aside  from  the  transcendent  elevation  of  the  subject,  meets  with 
a  serious  obstacle  in  our  unconscious  preconception.s.  We  can- 
not see  him  in  Galilee,  nor  in  Judaea,  just  as  he  was.  We  look 
back  upon-  him  thi'ough  a  blaze  of  light.  The  utmost  care  will 
not  wholly  prevent  our  beholding  Jesus  through  the  medium 
of  subsequent  history.  It  is  not  the  Jesus  who  suiFered  in 
Palestine  that  we  behold,  but  the  Christ  that  has  since  filled 
the  world  with  his  name.  It  is  difficult  to  put  back  into  the 
simple  mechanic  citizen  Him  whom  ages  have  exalted  to  Divin- 
ity.    Even  if  we  could  strain  out  the  color  of  history,  we  could 

^ ^ 


HEADS   OF   CHRIST. 


[fi Q] 

HIS  PERSONAL   APPEARANCE.  103 

not  stop  the  beatings  of  the  heart,  nor  disenchant  the  imagma- 
tion,  nor  forget  those  personal  struggles  and  deep  experiences 
which  have  connected  our  lives  in  so  strange  a  manner  with 
his.  We  cannot  lay  aside  our  foith  hke  a  garment,  nor  change 
at  will  our  yearning  and  affection  for  Christ,  so  as  not  to  see 
him  in  the  light  of  our  own  hearts.  His  very  name  is  a  love- 
name,  and  kindles  in  tender  and  grateful  natures  a  kind  of 
poetry  of  feeling.  As  at  evening  Ave  see  the  sun  through  an 
atmosphere  wliich  the  sun  itself  has  filled  with  vapor,  and  by 
which  its  color  and  dimensions  are  changed  to  the  eye,  so  we 
see  in  Jesus  the  qualities  wdiich  he  has  inspired  in  us. 

Such  a  state  of  mind  inclines  one  to  devotion,  rather  than 
to  philosophical  accuracy.  The  exalted  idea  which  we  hold  of 
Jesus,  and  our  implicit  and  reverential  view  of  his  Divinity,  still 
tend,  as  they  have  tended  hitherto,  to  give  an  ideal  color  to 
his  person  and  to  his  actual  appearance  among  men  in  the, 
times  in  which  he  lived.  It  is  unconsciously  assumed  that  the 
inward  Divinity  manifested  itself  in  his  form  and  mien.  We 
see  him  in  imagination,  not  as  they  saw  him  who  companied 
Avith  him  from  the  beginning,  but  under  the  dazzling  reflection 
of  two  thousand  years  of  adoration.  To  men  of  his  own  times 
he  was  simply  a  citizen.  He  came  to  earth  to  be  a  man.  and 
succeeded  so  perfectly  that  he  seemed  to  his  own  age  and  to  his 
followers  to  be  only  a  man.  That  he  was  remarkable  for  purity 
and  for  power  of  an  extraordinary  kind,  that  he  was  a  great 
prophet,  and  lived  in  the  enjoyment  of  peculiar  favor  with  God, 
and  in  the  exercise  of  prerogatives  not  vouchsafed  to  mere  men, 
was  fidly  admitted  ;  but  until  after  his  resurrection,  none  even 
of  his  disciples,  and  still  less  any  in  the  circle  beyond,  seem  to 
have  held  that  view  of  his  person  which  we  are  prone  to  forai 
when  in  imagination  we  go  back  to  Palestine,  carrying  with 
us  the  ideas,  the  pictures,  the  worship,  -jvhich  long  years  of 
training  have  bred  in  us. 

There  is  one  conversation  recorded  which  bears  directly  on 
this  very  point,  namely,  the  impression  which  Jesus  made  upon 
his  own  time  and  countrymen.  It  Avas  near  the  end  of  his 
first  year  of  ministry.  He  was  in  the  neighborhood  of  Ctesarea 
Philippi,  north  of  Galilee,  Avhere  he  had  been  engaged  in  way- 
side   prayer-  Avith    his  disciples.      By  combining    the  narratives 

^ i 


^ -a 

104  THE  LIFE    OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

ill  the  sjaioptic  Gospels  we  have  the  following  striking  conver- 
sation. 

"  Whom  do  men  say  that  I,  the  Son  of  Man,  am  ? " 

And  the  disciples  answered  and  said :  "  Some  say  that  thou  art 
John  the  Baptist ;  but  some  say  Elijah,  and  others  say  Jeremiah, 
or  that  one  of  the  old  prophets  is  risen  again." 

And  Jesus  saith  unlo  them :   "  But  whom  sjiy  ye  that  I  am  ?  " 

Simon  Peter  answered  and  said  unto  him :  "  Thou  art  the 
Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God." 

This,  it  is  true,  is  an  explicit  avowal  of  the  speaker's  belief 
that  Jesus  was  the  Messiah.  But  how  imperfect  the  reigning 
expectation  of  even  the  most  intelligent  Jews  must  have  been, 
in  regard  to  that  long-expected  personage,  need  not  be  set  forth. 
That  the  disciples  themselves  had  but  the  most  vague  and  im- 
satisfyiiig  notion  is  shown,  not  alone  by  their  whole  career  until 
after  the  Lord's  ascension,  but  by  the  instruction  which  Jesus 
proceeded  to  give  them  in  immediate  connection  with  this  con- 
versation. He  began  to  make  known  to  them  what  should  befall 
him  at  Jerusalem,  his  sufferings,  his  death  and  resurrection ; 
whereat  Peter  rebuked  him,  and  was  himself  reproved  for  the 
unworthiness  of  his  conceptions. 

There  is  absolutely  nothing  to  detemiine  the  personal  appear- 
ance of  Jesus.  Some  ideas  of  his  bearing,  and  many  of  his 
habits,  may  be  gathered  from  incidental  elements  recorded  in 
the  Gospels.  But  to  his  form,  his  height,  the  character  of  his 
face,  or  of  any  single  feature  of  it,  there  is  not  the  slightest 
allusion.  Had  Jesus  lived  in  Greece,  we  should  have  had  a 
very  close  portraiture  of  his  person  and  countenance.  Of  the 
great  men  of  Greece  —  of  Socrates,  of  Demosthenes,  of  Pericles, 
and  of  many  others  —  we  have  more  or  less  accurate  details 
of  personal  appearance.  Coins  and  statues  reveal  the  features 
of  the  Roman  contemporaries  of  Jesus;  but  of  Him,  the  one 
historic  personage  of  whose  form  and  face  the  whole  world  most 
desires  some  knowledge,  there  is  not  a  trace  or  a  hint.  The 
disciples  were  neither  literary  nor  artistic  men.  It  is  doubtful 
whether  the  genius  of  the  race  to  which  they  belonged  ever 
inclined  them  to  personal  descriptions  or  delineations. 

The  religion  and  the  patriotism  of  the  Greek  incited  him  to 
fill  his  temples  with  statues  of  gods,  and  with  the  busts  of  heroes 

^ S 


#- ^ 

HIS  PERSONAL  APPEARANCE.  105 

and  of  patriots.  The  Greek  artist  was  scrupulously  trained  to 
the  study  of  the  human  form,  with  special  reference  to  its  rep- 
resentation in  art.  But  the  Jew  was  forbidden  to  make  any 
image  or  likeness  or  symbol  of  Divinity.  The  prohibition, 
though  primarily  confined  to  Deity,  could  not  but  affect  the 
whole  education  in  art;  and  it  is  not  surprising  that  there  was 
no  Jewish  art,  —  that  paintings  and  statues  were  unknown, — 
that  Solomon's  Temple  was  the  single  specunen  of  pure  Jewish 
architecture  of  which  there  is  any  history.  Probably  even  that 
was  Phoenician,  or,  as  some  think,  Persian. 

But  when  men  have  not  formed  the  habit  of  representing 
external  things  from  an  artistic  point  of  view,  they  do  not 
observe  them  closely.  We  cannot,  therefore,  wonder  that  there 
is  nothing  which  was  at  any  time  said  by  the  common  people, 
or  by  their  teachers  and  rulers,  and  that  nothing  fell  out  upon 
his  trial,  among  Roman  spectators,  and  nothing  in  the  subse- 
quent history,  which  throws  a  ray  of  light  upon  the  personal 
appeai'ance  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth. 

We  know  not  whether  he  was  of  moderate  height  or  tall, 
Avhether  his  hair  was  dark  or  light,  whether  his  eyes  were  blue, 
or  gray,  or  piercing  black.  We  have  no  hint  of  mouth  or  brow, 
of  posture,  gesture,  or  of  those  personal  peculiarities  which  give 
to  ex^vy  man  his  individual  look.  All  is  blank,  although  four 
separate  accounts  of  him  were  written  within  fifty  years  of  his 
earthly  life.  He  is  to  us  a  personal  power  without  a  form,  a 
name  of  wonder  without  portraiture.  It  is  true  that  there  is  a 
conventional  head  of  Christ,  which  has  come  down  to  us  through 
the  schools  of  art,  but  it  is  of  no  direct  historic  value. 

The  early  Fathers  were  divided  in  opinion,  whether  our  Lord 
had  that  dignity  and  beauty  which  became  so  exalted  a  person, 
or  whether  he  was  uncomely  and  insignificant  in  appearance. 
Both  views  appealed  to  the  prophecies  of  the  Old  Testament 
respecting  the  Messiah :  "  Thou  art  fairer  than  the  children  of 
men ;  grace  is  poured  into  thy  lips ;  therefore  God  hath  blessed 
thee  forever.  Gird  thy  sword  upon  thv  thigh,  O  most  Mightj-, 
with  thy  glory  and  thy  majesty."     (Psalm  xlv.  2,  3.) 

On  the  other  hand  :  "  Who  hath  believed  our  report  ?  And 
to  whom  is  the  arm  of  the  Lord  revealed  ?  For  he  shall  grow  up 
before  him  as  a  tender  plant,  and  as  a  root  out  of  a  dry  ground ; 

^ S 


a- -vo 

106  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE  CHRIST. 

he  bath  no  form  nor  comeliness ;  and  when  we  shall  see  him, 
there  is  no  beauty  that  Ave  should  desire  him."  (Isaiah  liii. 
1,  2.) 

As  men  adhered  to  the  one  or  the  other  of  these  and  like 
passages,  they  formed  their  theory  of  Christ's  personal  appear- 
ance. During  the  persecutions  of  the  second  and  third  centuries, 
the  poor  and  despised  Christian  found  it  pleasant  to  believe  that 
his  Master  was,  though  very  God,  yet  as  insignificant  outwardly, 
and  as  wretched,  as  the  most  vulgar  of  his  disciples.  But  when 
Christianity  began  to  triumph,  and  to  hold  the  sceptre  of  gov- 
ernment, it  was  very  natural  that  its  votaries  should  desire  to 
give  to  its  foimder  a  more  regal  aspect.  St.  Jerome  inveighed 
against  the  earlier  view,  contending  that,  had  our  Lord  not 
carried  a  truly  Divine  countenance,  his  disciples  would  not  so 
implicitly  have  obeyed  and  followed  him  at  his  first  call.  It 
was  not  far,  probably,  from  the  beginning  of  the  fourth  cen- 
tury that  the  famous  letter  was  forged,  pin-]iorting  to  have  been 
written  by  Publius  Lentulus,  a  friend  of  Pilate,  and  a  contem- 
porary of  Jesus,  of  which  we  shall  soon  speak. 

Portraits  of  Christ  began  to  appear  about  the  same  time,  each 
one  having  a  legend  W'hich  carried  it  back  to  the  original;  and 
by  the  sixth  century  every  principal  city  and  Christian  commu- 
nity had  some  image,  picture,  cameo,  or  other  representation 
of  Christ,  of  which  hardly  any  two  were  alike.  The  absurdity 
became  so  offensive  that  the  Seventh  General  Council,  held  in 
Constantinople  in  754,  condemned  all  pictures  whatsoever  Avhich 
pretended  to  have  come  direct  from  Christ  or  his  Apostles.^ 

Such  a  letter  as  the  fictitious  epistle  of  Publius  Lentulus, 
had  one  been  written  by  a  Greek  or  Roman  contemporary  of 
the  Lord,  Avould  be  of  unspeakable  interest.  But,  aside  from 
the  rare  beauty  of  its  description,  this  famous  letter  is  of  in- 
terest only  as  showing  what  Avere  the  received  opinions  of 
Christians  in  the  fourth  century  respecting  our  Lord's  personal 
appearance.     We  append  the  letter.^ 

'  An  excellent  summary  of  the  history  of  the  ideas  concerning  our  Lord's  appearance 
may  be  found  in  the  Introduction  to  the  first  volume  of  the  Life  nf  our  Lord  an  exem- 
plified in  Works  of  Art,  &c.,  &c.,  begun  by  AJrs.  Jameson,  and  continued  by  Lady  East- 
lake. 

■  "  In  this  time  appeared  a  man,  who  lives  till  now,  —  ayjan  endowed  with  great  powers. 
Men  call  him  a  great  prophet ;  his  own  disciples  term  him  the  Son  of  God.     His  name 

^ ^ 


a- -a 

HIS  PERSONAL   APPEARANCE.  107 

Although  the  sacred  Scriptures  furnish  not  a  single  hint  of 
his  mien,  and  although  the  negative  evidence  is  strong  that  there 
was  nothing  remarkable  in  his  countenance  on  ordinary  occa- 
sions, it  is  not  improbable  that  his  disciples,  as  they  everywhere 
narrated  the  principal  events  of  his  life,  would  be  inquired  of 
as  to  their  Master's  looks.  Nor  is  it  unlikely  that  they  i-ecalled 
what  they  could  of  his  countenance,  for  the  gratification  of  a 
curiosity  inspired  by  love  and  reverence.  The  letter  of  Publius 
Lentulus  may  therefore  be  supposed  to  give  a  clear  view  of  the 
countenance  which  art  had  already  adopted,  and  which  after- 
ward served  virtually  as  the  type  of  all  the  heads  of  Christ  by 
the  great  Italian  masters,  and  by  almost  all  modern  artists.  It 
is  not  a  little  remarkable  that  this  typical  head  of  Christ  is 
not  a  Jewish  head.  The  first  portraits  of  Christ  were  made  by 
Greek  artists,  in  the  degenerate  days  of  Grecian  art.  They 
could  hardly  help  bringing  unconsciously  to  their  work  the 
feelings  and  ideas  inspired  by  the  splendid  representations  which 
had  been  made,  by  the  renowned  artists  of  their  country,  of 
the  figures  and  heads  of  the  mythologic  deities,  and  especiallj'^ 
of  Zeus, —  to  them  not  only  the  chief  of  gods,  but  the  highest 
I'ealization  of  majesty  and  authority. 

But  now  is  to  be  seen  the  modifying  influence  of  the  Chris- 
tian ideas  in  respect  to  the  expression  of  Divinity.  The  Chris- 
tian artists  all  attempted  to  express  in  our  Lord's  face  a  feeling 

is  Jesus  Christ.  He  restores  tiie  dead  to  life,  and  cures  the  sick  of  all  manner  of  dis- 
eases 

"  Tills  man  is  of  noble  and  well-proportioned  stature,  with  a  face  full  of  kindness  and 
yet  firmness,  so  that  the  beholders  both  love  him  and  fear  him.  His  hair  is  the  color 
of  wine,  and  golden  at  the  root,  —  straight,  and  without  lustre,  —  but  from  the  level  of 
the  ears  curling  and  glossy,  and  divided  down  the  centre  atter  the  fashiun  of  the  Naza- 
renes  (i.  e.  Nazarites).  His  forehead  is  even  and  smooth,  his  face  witliout  blemish,  and 
enhanced  by  a  tempered  bloom.  His  countenance  ingenuous  and  kind.  Nose  and  mouth 
are  in  no  way  faulty.  His  beard  is  full,  of  the  same  color  as  his  hair,  and  forked  in  form ; 
his  eyes  blue,  and  extremely  brilliant. 

"  In  reproof  and  rebuke  he  is  formidable ;  in  exhortation  and  teaching,  gentle  and 
amiable  of  tongue.  None  have  seen  him  to  laugh ;  but  many,  on  the  contrary,  to  we«p. 
His  person  is  tall ;  his  hands  beautiful  and  straight.  In  speaking  he  is  deliberate  and 
grave,  and  little  given  to  loquacity.     In  beauty  surpassing  most  men." 

There  is  another  description  of  Je<us  found  in  the  writings  of  St.  John  of  Damascus,  who 
hved  in  the  eighth  century,  and  which  is  taken,  without  doubt,  from  earlier  writers.  He 
says  that  "  Jesus  was  of  stately  growth,  with  eyebrows  that  joined  together,  beautiful  eyes, 
curly  hair,  in  the  prime  of  life,  with  black  beard,  and  with  a  yellow  comple.vion  and  long 
fingers  like'  his  mother." 

^ ^ 


[fl- -a 

108  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE    CHRIST. 

of  spii-itual  elevation  and  of  sympathy,  which  Avas  wholly  un- 
known to  classic  Grecian  art.  Although  there  is  in  tlie  early 
heads  of  Christ  the  form  of  a  Greek  ideal  philosopher's  face, 
or  of  a  god's,  the  sentiment  which  it  expresses  removes  it  from 
the  sphere  of  Greek  ideas. 

Still  less  is  the  historic  art -head  of  Christ  of  the  Roman  type. 
The  romid  Roman  head,  the  hard  lines  of  foce,  the  harsh  energy 
of  expression,  fonn  a  striking  contrast  with  the  gentle,  thoughts 
ful,  sympathetic  countenance  which  comes  down  to  us  from  the 
fourth  century.  As  Christ  spiritually  united  in  himself  all  na- 
tionalities, so  in  art  his  head  has  a  certain  universality.  All 
races  find  in  it  something  of  their  race  features.  The  head  of 
Christ,  as  it  comes  to  us  from  the  great  Italian  masters,  is  to 
art  what  the  heart  of  Christ  has  been  to  the  human  race. 

But  how  \insatisfying  is  all  art,  even  in  its  noblest  achieve- 
ments, when  by  the  presentation  of  a  human  face  it  undertakes 
to  meet  the  conceptions  which  we  have  of  the  glory  of  Divinity! 
When  art  sets  itself  to  represent  a  Divine  face  in  Christ,  it 
aims  not  only  at  that  which  is  intrinsically  impossible,  but  at 
an  unhistorical  fact.  It  was  not  to  show  his  royalty  that  Christ 
came  into  the  world.  He  took  upon  himself  the  form  of  a  man. 
He  looked  like  a  man.  He  lived  and  acted  as  a  man.  The 
very  miracles  which  he  wrought  served  to  show,  by  contrast, 
the  profound  agreement  of  his  general  life  with  the  great  lower 
realm  of  nature  into  which  he  had  descended. 

The  attempt  to  kindle  his  face  to  such  ethereal  glow  that 
it  shall  seem  lost  in  light,  must  carry  the  artist  aAvay  from  the 
distinctive  fact  of  the  life  of  Jesus.  He  was  not  a  man  striv- 
ino-  to  rise  to  the  Deity.  He  was  God  in  the  flesh,  seeking  to 
restrain  his  Divinity  within  such  bounds  as  should  identify  him 
with  his  brethren,  and  keep  him  within  the  range  of  their  per- 
sonal s^nnpathy. 

No  one  view  of  the  head  of  Jesus  can  satisfy  the  desires  of 
a  devout  spectator.  It  is  impossible  for  art  to  combine  majesty 
and  meekness,  suffering  and  joy,  indignation  and  love,  sternness 
and  tenderness,  grief  and  triumph,  in  the  same  face  at  one  time. 
Yet  some  special  representations  may  come  much  nearer  to  sat- 
isfying us  than  others.  The  Christ  of  Michael  Angelo,  in  his 
renowned  picture  of  the  Last  Judgment,  is  repulsive.     The  head 

[fe S^ 


[fi- -^ 

HIS  PERSONAL  APPEARANCE.  109 

and  face  of  Christ  by  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  in  the  Last  Supper, 
even  in  .its  present  wasted  condition,  produces  an  impression 
vipon  a  sensitive  nature  which  it  will  never  foi'get,  nor  wisb 
to  forget.  But  few  of  all  the  representations  of  Christ  Avhich 
have  become  famous  m  art  are  at  all  helpful,  either  in  bringing 
us  toward  any  adequate  conception  of  the  facts  of  history,  or 
in  giving  help  to  our  devout  feelings  by  furnishing  them  an 
outward  expression.  The  great  crowd  of  pictorial  efforts  neither 
aid  devotion,  represent  history,  nor  dignify  art.  Made  Avithout 
reverence,  as  professional  exercises,  they  lower  the  tone  of  our 
thoughts  and  mislead  our  imagination  Taking  all  time  together, 
it  may  well  be  doubted  whether  religion  has  not  lost  more 
than  it  has  gained  by  the  pictorial  representation  of  Jesus. 
The  old  Hebrew  example  was  fur  grander.  The  Hebrew  taught 
men  spirituality,  when  he  forbade  art  to  paint  or  to  carve  an 
image  of  the  formless  Deity ;  and  although  Jesus  of  Nazareth 
was  "  God  manifest  in  the  flesh,"  and  in  so  far  not  to  be  reck- 
oned rigidly  as  within  the  old  Hebrew  rule,  yet  even  in  this 
case  art  can  touch  only  the  humiliation  of  Divmity,  and  not  its 
glory. 

We  could  afford  to  lose  the  physical  portraiture  of  Jesus,  if  in 
its  stead  we  could  obtain  such  an  idea  of  his  personal  liearing 
and  carriage  as  shoidd  place  him  before  our  eyes  with  that  im- 
pressive individuality  which  he  must  have  had  in  the  sight  of 
his  contemporaries.  Fortunately  there  are  glimpses  of  his  per- 
sonal bearing.  As  soon  as  men  cease  to  divide  the  life  of 
Christ,  and  apportion  one  jiart  to  the  man  and  the  other  to  the 
God,  as  soon  as  they  accept  his  whole  life  and  being  in  its 
unity,  —  God  manifest  in  the  flesh,  —  events  become  more  sig- 
nificant. They  are  not  the  actions  of  a  human  soul  in  some 
strange  connection  with  a  Divine  nature ;  they  are  the  out- 
working of  the  Divine  nature  placed  in  human  circumstances. 
Their  value,  as  interpreters  of  the  Divine  feelings,  dispositions, 
and  will,  is  thus  manifestly  augmented. 

Every  system,  whether  of  philosophy  or  of  religion,  that  was 
ever  propounded,  before  Christianity,  might  be  received  without 
any  knowledge,  in  the  disciple,  of  the  person  of  its  teacher. 
The  Parsee  and  the  Buddhist  believe  in  a  system  more  than 
in  a  person.     What  Plato  taught  is  more  important  than  what 


fl- -^ 

110  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,   THE  CHRIST. 

Plato  himself  was.  One  may  accept,  all  of  Socrates's  teaching 
without  caring  for  Socrates  himself  Even  Paul's  development 
of  Christian  ideas  does  not  require  that  one  should  accept  Paul. 

Not  so  Christianity.  Christianity  is  faith  in  Christ.  The  vital 
miion  of  our  souls  with  his  was  the  sum  of  his  teaching,  the 
means  by  which  our  nature  was  to  be  carried  up  to  God's ; 
and  all  other  doctrines  Avere  auxiliary  to  this  union,  or  a  guide 
to  the  life  Avhich  should  spring  from  it.  To  live  in  him,  to 
have  him  dwelling  in  us,  to  lose  our  personal  identity  in  his, 
and  to  have  it  return  to  us  purified  and  ennobled,^ this  is  the 
very  marrow  of  his  teaching.  "  I  in  them,  and  thou  in  me, 
that  they  may  lie  made  perfect  in  one."  The  Apostle  summa- 
rized Christianity  as  "  Christ  in  you,  the  hope  of  glory." 

The  very  genius  of  Christianity,  then,  requires  a  distinct  con- 
ception, not  of  Christ's  person,  but  of  his  personalitA^  This  may 
account  for  the  structure  of  the  Gospels.  They  are  neither 
journals  nor  itineraries ;  still  less  arc  they  orderly  expositions 
of  doctrine.  The  Gospels  are  the  collective  reminiscences  of 
Christ  by  the  most  impressible  of  his  disciples.  Their  memo- 
ries would  retain  the  most  characteristic  transactions  which  took 
place  during  their  intercourse  with  the  Master,  while  mere  inci- 
dental things,  the  prosaic  and  unpictorial  portions  of  his  life, 
would  fade  out.  We  find,  therefore,  as  might  be  expected,  in 
all  the  Gospels,  pictures  of  Christ  which  represent  the  social 
and  spiritual  elements  of  his  life,  rather  than  the  corporeal. 
If  these  biographies  be  compared  with  the  physical  portraiture 
of  heroes  and  gods  which  classic  literature  has  furnished,  the 
contrast  Avill  be  striking.  The  Gospels  give  a  portrait,  not  of 
attitudes  or  of  features,  but  of  the  disposition  and  of  the  soul. 

Most  men,  it  may  be  suspected,  think  of  Jesus  as  one  above 
the  ordinary  level  of  human  existence,  looking  pitifully  down 
upon  the  gay  and  innocent  pursuits  of  common  life,  —  abstract, 
ethereal,  wise,  and  good,  but  living  apart  from  men,  and  de- 
scending to  their  level  only  to  give  them  rebuke  or  instruction. 

But  we  shall  miss  the  free  companionship  of  Christ,  if  we  thus 
put  him  out  of  the  familiar  sympathies  of  every-day  life.  He 
was  not  a  pulseless  being,  feeding  on  meditations,  but  a  man 
in  every  honorable  trait  of  manhood,  and  participating  in  the^ 
whole  range  of  industries,  trials,  joys,  sorrows,  and  temptations 

^ -# 


[fi- -a 

HIS  PERSONAL  APPEARANCE.  Ill 

of  human  kind.  During  at  least  twenty  years  of  his  life,  if  we 
subtract  his  childhood,  he  was  a  common  laborer.  Thei'e  are 
incidental  evidences  that  he  did  not  attract  attention  to  himself 
more  than  any  other  mechanic.  Whatever  experience  hard- 
laboring  men  pass  through,  of  toil  poorly  requited,  of  insignifi- 
cance in  the  sight  of  the  rich  and  the  powerful,  of  poverty 
with  its  cutting  bonds  and  its  hard  lunitations,  Jesus  had  proved 
through  many  patient  years.  And  when  he  began  his  ministry, 
he  did  not  stand  aloof  like  an  ambassador  from  a  foreign  court, 
watching  the  development  of  citizen  manners  as  a  mere  spec- 
tator. He  entered  into  the  society  of  his  times,  and  was  an 
integral  part  of  it.  He  belonged  to  the  nation,  was  reared  under 
its  laws  and  customs,  partook  of  its  liabilities,  had  the  ardor  of 
elevated  patriotism,  and  performed  all  the  appropriate  duties  of 
a  citizen.     John  says,  '•  He  dwelt  among  us." 

And  yet  it  is  difficult  to  conceive  of  him  as  specialized,  either 
to  any  nation  or  to  any  class  or  profession.  He  was  univer- 
sal. Although  he  had  the  sanctity  of  the  priest,  he  was  more 
than  priest.  Though  he  had  a  philosopher's  wisdom,  he  had  a 
royal  sympathy  with  all  of  human  life,  quite  foreign  to  the 
philosophic  temper.  He  was  more  than  a  prophet,  more  than 
a  Jew.  He  touched  human  life  on  every  side,  though  chiefly 
in  its  spiritual  elements.  He  moved  alike  among  men  of  every 
kind,  and  was  at  home  with  each.  Among  the  poor  he  was 
as  if  poor,  among  the  rich  as  if  bred  to  wealth.  Among  chil- 
dren he  was  a  flimiliar  companion ;  among  doctors  of  theology 
an  mimatched  disputant.  Svmpathy,  Versatility,  and  Univer- 
sality are  the  terms  which  may  with  justice  be  applied  to  him. 

He  loved  active  society,  and  yet  he  was  fond  of  solitude ; 
he  loved  assemblies ;  he  loved  wayside  conversations  with  all 
sorts  of  men  and  women.  To-day  he  roamed  the  highway,  liv- 
ing upon  the  alms  of  loving  friends,  and  sleeping  at  night  where 
he  chanced  to  find  a  bed ;  to-mori-ow  we  shall  find  him  at  the 
feasts  of  rich  men,  both  courted  and  feared.  That  he  did  not 
sit  at  the  table  a  mere  spectator  of  social  joy  is  plain  from  the 
fact  which  he  himself  mentions,  that  by  his  participation  in 
feasts  he  brought  upon  himself  the  reputation  of  being  a  revel- 
ler! (Matthew  xi.  19.)  The  ''beginning  of  miracles"  at  Cana 
was  one  Avhich  was  designed  to  prolong  the  festivities  of  a  mar- 

^ ^ 


cp- -a 

112  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE  CHRIST. 

riage  feast.  There  is  not  the  record  of  a  smgle  reprehension 
of  social  festivity,  not  a  severe  speech,  not  a  disapproving  sen- 
tence uttered  against  the  pursuits  and  enjoyments  of  common 
hfe.  He  was  neither  an  Ascetic  nor  a  Stoic.  The  feasts  of 
■which  he  partook,  and  which  so  often  form  the  basis  of  his 
parables,  glowed  with  the  warmth  and  color  of  innocent  enjoy- 
ment. It  is  plain,  both  that  he  loved  to  see  men  happy,  and 
that  he  was  himself,  in  his  ordinary  moods,  both  genial  and 
cheerful,  or  he  could  not  have  glided  so  harmoniously  from 
day  to  day  into  the  domestic  and  business  life  of  his  country- 
men. It  was  only  in  their  public  relations,  and  upon  questions 
of  morality  and  spirituality,  that  he  ever  came  into  earnest 
collision  with  men. 

It  should  be  noticed,  also,  that  there  was  a  peculiar  kindness 
in  his  bearing  which  drew  him  close  to  men's  persons,  —  the 
natural  language  of  affection  and  sympathy.  He  touched  the  eyes 
of  the  blind  ;  he  put  his  finger  in  the  ears  of  the  deaf;  he  laid 
his  hands  upon  the  sick.  The  incidental  phrases,  almost  unno- 
ticed in  the  Gospels,  show  this  yearning  personal  familiarity 
with  men :  "  And  he  could  there  do  no  mighty  work,  save  that 
he  laid  his  /land  upon  a  few  sick  folk  and  healed  them."  ^  "  Now 
when  the  sun  was  setting,  all  they  that  had  any  sick  with 
divers  diseases  brought  them  unto  him ;  and  he  laid  his  hands 
on  every  one  of  them,  and  healed  them."^  '-He  called  her  to  him, 
....  and  he  laid  his  hands  on  her:  and  immediately  she  was 
made  straight."  ^ 

The  whole  narrative  of  the  blind  man  given  by  Mark  (viii. 
22-25)  is  full  of  this  tender  and  nursing  personal  intercourse: 
'■  And  he  cometh  to  Bethsaida ;  and  they  bring  a  blind  man 
unto  him,  and  besought  him  to  touch  him.  And  he  took  the 
blind  man  b//  the  hand  and  led  him  out  of  the  town;  and  when 
he  had  spit  on  his  eyes,  and  put  his  hands  upon  him,  he  asked 
him  if  he  saw  aught.  And  he  looked  up,  and  said,  I  see  men 
as  trees  walkmg.  After  that,  he  put  his  hands  again  upon  his 
eyes,  and  made  him  look  up  :  and  he  was  restored,  and  saw 
every  man  clearly."  When  the  leper  pleaded  that  he  might 
be  healed,  "  Jesus  put  forth  his  hand,  and  tovched  him,  ....  and 
immediately  his  leprosy  was  cleansed."      (Matthew  viii.    3,  4.) 

'  IMark  vi.  5.                            '  Luke  iv.  40.                            '  Luke  xiii.  12,  13. 
^ & 


a- ^ ~ 

HIS  PERSONAL   APPEARANCE.  II3 

When  the  centurion  asked  hinx  to  heal  his  servant,  expectin<r 
hnn  only  to  send  the  word  of  power  to  his  distant  couch,  Jesul 
replied,  "I  will  come  and  heal  him."  Peter's  mother-in-law  being 
sick,  "he  took  her  by  ihc  hand,  and  immediately  the  fever  left 
her."  And  so  the  Cxospels  are  full  of  phrases  that  imply  a  man- 
ner of  great  personal  familiarity.  "And  he  came  and' touched 
the  bier:  and  they  that  bare  him  stood  still."  "And  he  touched 
their  eyes."  "And  touched  his  tongue."  ''But  Jesus  took  him 
by  the  hand,  and  lifted  him  tip." 

In  no  other  place  is  his  loving  and  caressing  manner  more 
strikingly  set  forth  than  in  the  account  of  his  reception  of  little 
children.  "And  he  took  them  up  in  his  arras,  put  his  hands 
upon  them,  and  blessed  them."  These  are  bosom  words,  full  of 
love-pressure.  And  in  another  instance,  when  enforcing  the 
truth  of  disinterestedness,  it  was  not  enough  to  illustrate °it  by 
mentioning  childhood,  but  "he  took  a  child,  and  set  him  in  the 
midst  of  them :  and  when  he  had  taken  him  in  his  arms,  he  said 
unto  them,  Whosoever  shall  receive  one  of  such  children  in 
im-  name,  receiveth  me."     (Mark  ix.  36,  37.) 

Nor  should  we  foil   to  notice  the  interview  with  Mary,  after 
his  resurrection,  in  the  garden.     "Touch  me   not"   reveals  her 
spontaneous  impulse,  and   casts  back   a   light  upon  that  sacred 
household  life  and  love  which  he  had  prized  so  much  at  Bethany. 
But  we  are  not  to  suppose,  because  Jesus  moved  among  the 
common   people  as  a  man   among  men,  that  he  was  regarded 
by  his  disciples  or  by  the  people  as  a  common  man.     On  the 
contrary,  there  was  a  mysterious    awe.   as  well    as  a  profound 
curiosity,  concerning  him.      He  was   manifestly  superior   to   all 
about   him,  not   in   stature    nor  in   conscious  authority-,  but  in 
those  qualities  Avhich  indicate  spiritual   power  and  comprehen- 
siveness.     His  disciples  looked    upon  him   both  with  love   and 
fear.     Familiarity  and  awe  alternated.     Sometimes  they  treated 
him  as  a  companion.     They  expostulated  and  complained.     They 
disputed  his  word  and  rebuked  him.     At  other  times  they  whis- 
pered among  themselves,  and  dared  not  even  ask  him  questions. 
It  IS  plain   that  Jesus  had  moods  of  lofty  abstraction.     There 
were  hidden  depths.     The  sublimest  exhibition  of  this  took  place 
at   his   transfiguration  on  the  mount,  but  glimpses  of  the  same 
experience  seem  to  have  flashed  forth  from  time  to  time.     Ilis 

^- E^ 


-a 


^ ^ 

114  TJ/E  LIFE    OF  JESUS,    THE    CHRIST. 

nature  was  not  unHuctuating.  It  had  periods  of  overflow  and 
of  subsidence. 

But  these  clouded  or  outshining  hours  did  not  produce  fear 
so  much  as  veneration.  The  general  effect  upon  his  discij^les 
of  intimacy  with  him  was  love.  Those  who  were  capable  of 
understanding  him  best  loved  him  most.  Jesus  too  was  a  lovei", 
not  alone  in  the  sense  of  general  benevolence,  but  in  the  habit 
of  concentrated  affection  for  particular  jiersons.  "Then  Jesus, 
beholding  him,  loved  him."  "  He  whom  thou  hvest  is  sick." 
"  Now  Jesus  loved  Martha,  and  her  sister,  and  Lazarus."  "  Then 
said  the  Jews,  Beliold  how  he  loved  him."  Surely  it  was  not 
for  the  first  time  at  the  supper  following  the  washing  of  the 
disciples'  feet,  that  it  could  be  said  of  John,  "  He,  leaning  thus 
back  on  Jesus'  breast,"  —  for  such  is  the  force  of  the  original, 
in  the  latest  corrected  text.^  That  must  be  a  loving  and  de- 
monstrative nature  with  which  such  familiarity  could  be  even 
possible. 

Mark,  more  than  any  other  Evangelist,  records  the  power 
which  Christ  had  in  his  look.  His  eye  at  times  seemed  to 
pierce  with  irresistible  power.  Only  on  such  a  supposition  can 
we  account  for  the  dismay  of  those  sent  to  arrest  hiin.  The 
crowd  came  rushing  upon  him,  led  on  by  Judas.  Jesus  said, 
"  Whom    seek    ye  ?      They  answered    him,    Jesus    of   Nazareth. 

Jesus   saith    unto    them,   I   am  he As   soon   then   as  he 

had  said  luito  them  I  am  he,  they  went  backward,  and  fell  to 
the  ground." 

"When  Peter  had  thrice  denied  him,  ''  The  Lord  turned,  and 
looked  upon  Peter."  '-And  Peter  went  out  and  wept  bitterly." 
Such  cases  will  serve  to  explain  instances  like  that  of  the  heal- 
ing of  the  man  with  a  withered  hand.  And  he  ^^  looked  round 
alioiii  on  them  with  anger,  being  grieved  for  the  hardness  of 
their  hearts."  On  another  occasion  he  is  thus  I'epresented : 
"  Who  touched  me  ?     And  he  loo/red  found  about  to  see  her  that 

'  Tlie  "  leaning  on  Josus'  bosom,"  in  the  twenty-tliinl  ver.^e  (.lohn  .xiii.).  simply  indi- 
cates tint  John,  i-eelining  at  table  according  to  the  cnstoni  |)ri'valent  since  the  captivity, 
came  next  below  Jesus,  and  his  head  would  therefore  come  near  to  his  Master's  breast 
But  in  the  twenty-fifth  verse  a  different  action  is  indicated.  Tlie  language  implies,  that, 
ill  asking  the  <iuestion  about  the  betrayal,  he  leaned  back  so  as  to  rest  las  head  upon 
his  Lord's  bosom.  The  reading  "  leaning  hack  on  Jesus'  breast,"  instead  of  '•  He  then 
lying  on  Jesus'  breast,"  is  approved  by  Tischendorf,   Green,  Alford,   and  Tregelles. 

^ -# 


a- ^ 

HIS  PERSONAL  APPEARANCE.  115 

had  done  this  thing.  But  the  woman,  fearing  and  tremljling, 
....  came    and   fell  down  before  him." 

It  is  plain,  from  a  comparison  of  passages,  that  his  gentle  and 
attractive  manners,  which  made  him  accessible  to  the  poor,  the 
outcast,  and  the  despised,  were  accompanied  by  an  imperial 
manner  which  none  ever  presumed  upon.  Indeed,  we  have  inci- 
dental mention  of  the  awe  which  he  inspired,  even  in  those 
who  had  the  right  to  intimate  familiarity.  "And  none  of  the 
disciples  durst  ask  him,  Who  art  thou  ?  knowing  that  it  was 
the  Lord."  All  three  of  the  synoptical  Gospels  mention  the 
efiect  produced  by  his  bearing  and  by  his  answers  to  vexatious 
questions.  "And  after  that,  they  durst  not  ask  him  any  ques- 
tion at  all." 

Mark  mentions  a  very  striking  incident  in  a  manner  so  mod- 
est that  its  significance  is  likely  to  escape  us.  "And  they  were 
in  the  way,  going  up  to  Jerusalem ;  and  Jesus  went  before 
them  ;  and  they  were  amazed  ;  and  as  they  followed,  they  were 
afi'aid.  And  he  took  again  the  twelve,  and  began  to  tell  them 
what  things  should  happen  unto  him."  (Mark  x.  32.)  It  seems 
that  he  was  so  absorbed  in  the  contemplation  of  those  great 
events  which  already  overhung  him,  and  toward  which  he  was 
quickening  his  steps,  that  he  got  before  them  and  walked  alone. 
As  they  looked  upon  him,  a  change  came  over  his  person. 
Once  before,  on  the  mountain,  some  of  them  had  been  bewil- 
dered by  his  changed  look.  Yet  it  was  not  now  an  effulgent 
light,  but  rather  sternness  and  grandeur,  as  if  his  soul  by  antici- 
pation was  in  conflict  with  the  powers  of  darkness,  and  his 
whole  figure  lifted  up  as  in  the  act  of  "  despising  the  shame  "  of 
the  near  and  ignominious  trial. 

Our  Lord's  great  power  as  a  speaker  depended  essentiallv 
upon  the  profoimd  truths  which  he  uttered,  upon  the  singular 
skill  with  which  they  were  adapted  to  the  peculiar  circumstances 
which  called  them  forth,  and  to  the  faculty  which  he  had  of 
littering  in  simple  and  vernacular  phrase  the  most  abstruse  ideas. 
But  there  was  besides  all  this  a  singular  impressiveness  of  man- 
ner Avhich  it  is  probable  was  never  surpassed.  His  attitude,  the 
extraordinary  influence  of  his  eye,  his  very  silence,  were  ele- 
ments of  power  of  which  the  EvangeUsts  do  not  leave  us  in 
doubt. 

^ ^ 


^ -a 

116  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,   THE  CHRfST. 

There  is  in  Mark's  account  (x.  23)  a  use  of  words  that  indi- 
cates a  peculiar,  long,  and  penetrating  action  of  the  eye,  —  a 
lingering  deliberation.  "And  Jesus  looked  romul  about,  and  saith 
unto  his  disciples,  How  hardly  shall  they  that  have  riches  enter 
into  the  kingdom  of  God!"  When  the  disciples,  amazed  Avith 
the  impressiveness  of  his  word  and  action,  asked,  "  Who,  then, 
can  be  saved?"  he  apparently  did  not  reply  iijstantly,  but,  with 
the  same  long  gaze,  his  eye  spoke  in  advance  of  his  tongue. 
''  Jesus,  lookbuj  upon  them,  saith,  With  men  it  is  impossible,  but 
not  with  God."  In  the  account  given  by  Mark  (viii.  33)  one 
can  see  how  large  an  element  of  impressiveness  was  derived 
from  Christ's  manner  and  expression,  before  he  spoke  a  word. 
'*  But  when  he  had  turned  about,  and  looked  on  his  disciples, 
he  rebuked  Peter,  saying.  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan ! " 

There  were  times  when  Jesus  did  not  employ  words  at  all. 
Most  impressive  effects  were  derived  from  his  manner  alone. 
"And  Jesus  entered  into  Jerusalem,  and  into  the  temple;  and 
when  he  had  looked  round  about  upon  all  things,  and  now  the 
even-tide  was  come,  lie  went  out  unto  Bethany."  This  scene 
would  not  have  lingered  in  the  mind  of  the  sjiectators,  and 
been  recorded  in  the  Gospel,  if  his  air  and  manner  had  not 
been  exceedingly  striking.  It  was  a  picture  that  could  not 
fade  from  the  memory  of  those  who  had  seen  it,  yet  it  was  a 
scene  of  perfect  silence  ! 

There  is  a  poor  kind  of  dignity,  that  never  allows  itself  to 
be  excited,  that  is  guarded  against  all  surprises,  that  restrains 
the  expression  of  sudden  interest,  that  holds  on  its  cold  and 
careful  way  as  if  superior  to  the  evanescent  moods  of  common 
men.  Such  was  not  Christ's  dignity.  No  one  seemed  more  a 
man  among  men  in  all  the  inflections  of  human  moods  than 
did  Jesus.  With  the  utmost  simplicity  he  suffered  the  events 
of  life  to  throw  their  lights  and  shadows  upon  his  soul.  He 
was  '■  grieved,"  he  was  "  angry,"  he  was  "  surprised,"  he  "  mar- 
velled." In  short,  his  soul  moved  through  all  the  moods  of 
human  experience  ;  and  while  he  rose  to  sublime  communion 
with  God,  he  was  also  a  man  among  men ;  while  he  rebuked 
self-indulgence  and  frivolity,  he  cheerfully  partook  of  innocent 
enjoyments;  while  he  denounced  the  insincerity  or  burdensome 
teachings   of  the   Pharisees,   he   did   not   separate    himself  from 


#- -a 

MIS   PERSONAL  APPEARANCE.  II7 

their  society  or  from  their  social  life,  but  even  accepted  their 
hospitality,  and  his  dinner  discourses  contain  some  of  his  most 
pimgent  teachings. 

We  have  purposely  omitted  those  views  of  Christ  which, 
through  the  unfolding  process  of  his  life  and  teaching,  devel- 
oped at  length,  in  the  Apostles'  minds,  to  the  full  and  clear  rev- 
elation of  Divinity.  We  have  sketched  him  as  he  must  have 
appeared  during  his  ministry,  when  men  were  gazing  upon  him 
in  wonder,  thinking  that  he  was  '■  that  prophet,"  or  "  Elijah,"  or 
that  Messiah  "that  should  come." 

We  must  not,  then,  take  with  us,  m  following  out  the  life 
of  Jesus,  the  conception  of  a  formidable  being,  terrible  in  holi- 
ness. We  must  clothe  him  in  our  imagination  with  traits  that 
made  little  children  run  to  him;  that  made  mothers  long  to 
have  him  touch  their  babes ;  that  won  to  him  the  poor  and  suf- 
fering ;  that  made  the  rich  and  influential  throw  wide  open  the 
doors  of  their  houses  to  him ;  that  brought  around  him  a  com- 
pany of  noble  women,  who  travelled  with  him,  attended  to  his 
wants,  and  supplied  his  necessities  from  their  own  wealth ;  that 
irresistibly  attracted  those  other  women,  in  whom  vice  had  not 
yet  destroyed  all  longing  for  a  better  life ;  that  excited  among 
the  learned  a  vehement  curiosity  of  disputation,  while  the  unlet- 
tered declared  that  he  spake  as  one  having  authority.  He  was 
the  great  Master  of  nature,  observing  its  laws,  laying  all  his 
plans  in  consonance  with  the  fixed  order  of  things  even  in  his 
miracles ;  seeming  to  violate  nature,  only  because  he  knew  that 
nature  is  not  only  and  alone  that  small  circle  which  touches 
and  includes  physical  matter,  but  a  larger  province,  enclosing 
the  great  spiritual  world,  including  God  himself  therein. 


^ ^ -^ 


-a 


C&- 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

THE   OUTLOOK. 

"  rjlHINK  not  that  I  am  come  to  destroy  the  law,  or  the 
J_  prophets :  I  am  not  come  to  destroy,  but  to  fulfil."  Jesus 
would  reform  the  world,  not  by  destroying,  but  by  developing 
the  germs  of  truth  already  existing.  He  accepted  Avhatever 
truth  and  goodness  had  ripened  through  thousands  of  years. 
He  would  join  his  own  work  to  that  already  accomplished, 
bringing  to  view  the  yet  higher  truths  of  the  spiritual  realm. 
But  the  design  of  all  his  teaching,  whether  of  morality  or  of 
spirituality,  was  to  open  the  human  spirit  to  the  direct  influ- 
ence of  the  Divine  nature.  Out  of  such  a  union  would  proceed 
by  spiritual  laws  and  tendencies  all  that  man  needs. 

The  reconciliation  of  the  human  soul  with  the  Divine  is  also 
the  harmonization  of  the  two  great  spheres,  the  material  and 
the  spiritual.  Men  will  then  be  no  longer  under  the  exclusive 
dominion  of  natural  law  in  the  plane  of  matter.  They  will 
come  luider  the  influence  of  another  and  a  higher  form  of  nat^ 
ural  law,  that  of  the  spirit.  Nature  is  not  confined  to  matter. 
To  us  it  begins  there  ;  but  nature  includes  the  earth  and  tlie 
heaven,  the  visible  and  the  invisible,  all  matter  and  all  spirit. 
That  portion  of  natural  law  which  regulates  physical  things  is 
nearest  to  our  knowledge,  but  is  not  the  typical  or  universal. 
As  seen  from  above,  doubtless,  it  is  the  lowest  form  of  law. 
Nature  is  the  univer.se.  Nature  as  men's  physical  senses  dis- 
cern it  is  poor  and  meagre  compared  with  its  expansion  in  the 
invisible  realm  where  God  dwelleth.  Natural  laws  run  througli 
God's  dominion  in  harmonious  subordination,  those  of  the  spir- 
itual world  having  pre-eminence  and  control. 

We  discern  in  Jesus  the  demeanor  of  one  who  was  conscious 
of  the  universe,  and  who  knew  that  this  earthly  globe  is  but 
its  least   part,  —  normal,  indeed,   and    serviceable,  but   subject, 

. ■ 4 


CO 


CO 


THE   OUTLOOK.  119 

auxiliary,  and  subordinate  to  higher  elements.  He  acted  as 
one  who  recognized  the  uses  of  this  life,  but  who  by  a  heavenly 
experience  knew  its  vast  relative  inferiority.  By  no  word  did 
Jesus  undervalue  civil  laws,  governments,  the  industries  of  men, 
and  their  accumulated  wealth  ;  yet  not  a  syllable  of  instruction 
did  he  let  fall  on  these  topics,  nor  did  he  employ  them  to  any 
considei'able  degree  in  his  ministry.  To  us,  husbandrv,  navio-a- 
tion,  the  perfection  of  mechanic  arts,  and  the  discovery  of  new 
forces  or  the  invention  of  new  combinations,  seem  of  transcen- 
dent importance.  Men  have  asked  whether  he  who  threw  no 
light  upon  physiology,  who  made  known  no  laws  of  health  and 
no  antidotes  or  remedies  for  wasting  sicknesses,  who  left  the 
world  as  poor  in  economic  resources  as  he  found  it,  could  be 
Divine.  But  to  one  cognizant  of  the  spiritual  universe  all  these 
things  would  seem  initial,  subordinate,  and  inferior;  while  the 
truths  of  the  soul  and  of  the  spirit,  the  science  of  holiness, 
would  take  precedence  of  all  secular  wealth  and  wisdom. 

Physical  elements  might  be  safely  left  to  unfold  through  that 
natural  law  of  development  which  is  carrying  the  world  steadilv 
forward ;  but  "  the  spirit  is  weak."  To  bring  the  soul  of  man 
into  the  presence  of  God,  to  open  his  heart  to  the  Divine  in- 
fluence, was  a  need  for  greater  than  that  of  any  sensuous  help. 
We  shall  find  that  Jesus  diftered  from  ordinary  men,  not  by 
living  above  natural  laws,  but  by  living  in  a  larger  sphere  of 
natural  laws.  He  harmonized  in  his  life  the  laws  of  spirit  and 
of  matter.  In  all  that  pertained  to  earthly  life,  he  lived  just 
as  men  live.  In  that  which  pertained  to  the  spirit,  he  lived 
with  the  air  and  manner  of  one  who  came  from  heaven.  In 
his  miracles  he  but  exhibited  the  supremacy  of  the  higher  over 
the  lower,  of  the  spiritual  over  the  material.  A  miracle  is  not 
the  setting  aside  of  a  law  of  nature,  it  is  but  the  exhibition  of 
the  supremacy  of  a  higher  law  of  nature  in  a  sphere  where 
men  have  been  accustomed  to  see  the  operation  of  the  lower 
natural  laws  alone.  No  man  is  surprised  at  the  obedience  of 
matter  to  his  own  will.  Our  control  of  our  bodies,  and,  gen- 
erally, of  the  organized  matter  of  the  globe,  increases  in  the 
ratio  of  the  growth  of  our  mental  strength.  Jesus  declared  that, 
if  the  soul  were  opened  up  to  the  Divine  presence,  this  power 
would  be  greatly  augmented  ;    that  man's  higher  spiritual  ele- 

^ __ 


fl- -a 

120  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,  THE  CHRIST. 

ments  liad  a  natural  authority  over  tlie  physical  conditions  of 
this  world  ;  and  that  faith,  prayer,  divine  communion,  in  a  fer- 
vent state,  would  enable  his  followers  to  perform  the  miracles 
that  he  himself  performed.  It  was  this  latent  power  of  man's 
spii-itual  nature  that  Christ  sought  to  develop.  He  strove  to 
lift  men  one  sphere  higher,  and,  without  taking  them  away 
from  the  senses,  to  break  open,  as  it  were,  and  reveal  a  realm 
where  the  spirit  would  dominate  matter,  as  in  this  world  matter 
governs  the  spirit. 

It  is  this  supremacy  of  the  spiritual  over  the  physical  in  the 
great  order  of  a  universe-nature,  rather  than  of  the  earth-nature, 
that  must  be  borne  in  mind,  both  in  Christ's  own  conduct  and 
in  Iiis  discourses  and  his  promises  to  those  who  truly  entered  his 
kingdom;  and  that  is  the  rational  explanation  also  of  the  ex- 
traordinary phenomena  which  accompanied  the  Apostle's  preach- 
ing.    (1  Cor.  xii.  4-30.) 

Christ  was  a  Jew,  and  did  not  refuse  to  love  his  country, 
nor  was  he  without  enthusiasm  for  the  historic  elements  wrought 
out  so  nobly  by  the  great  men  of  the  Hebrew  nation  And 
yet  no  one  can  fail  to  perceive  that  above  all  these  patriotic 
enthusiasms,  and  far  beyond  them,  he  bore  a  nature  which  allied 
him  to  universal  man  without  regard  to  race  or  period,  and  that 
his  being  reached  higher  than  that  of  common  hunuinity,  and 
bi-ooded  in  the  mysterious  realms  of  the  spirit  land,  beyond  all 
human  sight  or  knowledge. 

We  may  presume,  therefore,  that  in  his  ministry  there  will 
be  found  a  close  adhesion  to  nature ;  that  as  the  Son  of  Man 
he  will  follow  the  methods  of  ordinary  physical  nature,  while 
as  the  Son  of  God  he  will  conform  to  the  laws  of  spiritual 
nature.  And  it  may  be  presupposed  that,  to  those  not  in- 
structed, one  part  of  such  observance  of  natural  law  may  seem 
to  conflict  with  another  part,  whereas  both  are  alike  conform- 
able to  nature,  if  by  nature  is  meant  God's  universe. 

When  Jesus  began  his  mission  in  Palestine,  it  swarmed  with 
a  population  so  mixed  with  foreign  elements  that  it  might 
almost  be  said  to  represent  every  people  of  the  then  civilized 
world.  No  great  war  seemed  able  to  leave  Palestine  untouched  ; 
whether   it  was    Egypt,  or   Assyria,  or    Greece,  or    Rome  that 

^ -4^ 


THE   OUTLOOK.  121 

was  at  war,  Palestine  was  sure  to  be  swept  by  the  inundation. 
Every  retiring  wave,  too,  left  behind  it  a  sediment.  The  phys- 
ical conformation  of  the  country  made  the  northeib  part  of 
Palestine  a  commercial  thoroughfare  for  Eastern  and  Western 
nations,  while  Judaaa,  lying  off  from  the  grand  routes,  and  not 
fovorably  situated  for  commerce,  was  less  traversed  by  mer- 
chants, adventurers,  or  emigrant  hordes.  And  so  it  happened 
that  Galilee  and  Samaria  were  largely  adulterated,  while  Judcea 
maintained  the  old  Jewish  stock  with  but  little  foreign  mixture. 

The  Judtean  Jews  were  proud  of  this  superiority.  Tliey 
looked  upon  Galilee  as  half  given  over  to  barbarism.  It  was 
styled  '•  Galilee  of  the  Gentiles,"  since  thither  had  drifted  a 
mixed  population  in  which  almost  every  nation  had  some  rep- 
resentatives. No  one  would  suspect  from  the  dreary  and  impov- 
erished condition  of  Palestine  to-day  how  populous  it  was  in 
the  time  of  Christ.  The  ruins  of  villages,  towns,  and  cities, 
which  abound  both  on  the  east  and  the  west  of  the  Jordan, 
confirm  the  explicit  testimony  of  Josephus  to  the  extraordinary 
populousness  of  Palestine  during  our  Lord's  life  and  ministry. 
Samaria,  the  great  middle  section  of  Palestine,  besides  its  large 
infusion  of  foreigners,  had  an  adulterated  home  population.  It 
was  on  this  account  that  the  i^uritan  Jews  of  Jerusalem  and 
Juda?a  abhorred  the  Samaritans,  and  refused  to  have  any  deal- 
ings with  them. 

Galilee,  the  most  populous  section,^  was  also  the  most  inter- 
mixed with  pagan  elements.  The  Roman  armies,  made  up 
largely  of  Italian  officers,  but  of  soldiers  drawn  from  conquered 
Oriental  nations,  brought  to  all  the  large  towns,  and  left  in  them, 
a  detritus  of  the  outside  world.  Already  the  Greek,  a  universal 
rover,  the  merchant  of  that  age  as  the  Jew  has  been  the  trader 
of  subsequent  ages,  was  largely  spread  through  the  province. 
Syria  and  Phoenicia  also  contributed  of  their  people.  Thus,  in 
every  part  of  Palestine,  north  and  south,  a  foreign  population 
swarmed  ai'ound  the  Jewish  stock  without  changing  it,  and 
without  being  itself  much  changed. 

The  inequality  of  condition  which  separated  the  various  classes 
of  Jews  was  unfavorable  to  prosperity.  While  the  northern 
province  was  given  to  commerce,  the  great  plain  of  Esdraelon 

'  The  population  of  Galilee  was  about  three  millions. 
^ ^ 


c&- — — -a 

122  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,  THE  CHRIST. 

serving  as  a  roadway  between  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean 
and  the  great  Syrian  interior  and  the  countries  skirting  the 
Lower  Jordan  and  the  Dead  Sea,  yet  the  bulk  of  the  popula- 
tion depended  for  a  precarious  subsistence  upon  agricultin-e  and 
the  humbler  forms  of  mechanic  art.  That  affecting  petition  in 
the  Lord's  Prayer,  "  Give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread,"  is  an  his- 
toric disclosure  of  local  want,  as  well  as  an  element  of  universal 
devotion.  It  is  the  prayer  prescribed  for  men  to  whom  it  was 
said,  "  Take  no  [anxious]  thought  what  ye  shall  eat,  what  ye 
shall  drink,  or  wherewithal  ye  shall  be  clothed."  But  com- 
merce had  made  a  portion  of  the  people  rich.  Extortion  had 
swollen  the  afHuence  of  others.  The  greatest  injustice  prevailed. 
Small  protection  was  given  to  the  weak.  The  Jews  were  a 
subject  race,  but  not  subdued.  Little  able  to  govern  them- 
selves, they  were  still  less  fitted  to  be  governed  by  another 
nation.  Their  religious  training  had  built  up  in  them  a  charac- 
ter of  great  strength.  They  were  proud,  fierce,  and  careless  of 
life  to  an  extraordinary  degree,  whether  it  was  their  own  life  or 
that  of  others. 

Political  subjection  was  peculiai'ly  irksome,  because,  as  they 
interpreted  their  prophets,  the  Jewvs  were  God's  favored  people. 
They  believed  that  the  family  of  David,  now  obscure  and  dis- 
honored, was  yet  to  hold  the  sceptre  of  universal  monarchy. 
They  had  not  only  a  right  to  be  free,  but  God  had  specially 
promised  that  they  should  rule  all  other  nations,  if  only  they 
kept  his  statutes.  To  keep  his  commandments  was  their  one 
excessive  anxiety.  They  scrutinized  every  particular,  added 
duty  to  duty,  multiplied  and  magnified  particulars,  lest  some- 
thing should  be  omitted.  They  gloried  in  the  Law,  and  de- 
voted themselves  to  it  night  and  day  with  engrossing  assiduity. 
Where,  then,  was  their  reward  ?  Why  was  not  the  Divine  prom- 
ise kept?  Instead  of  governing  others,  they  were  themselves 
overwhelmed,  subdued,  oppressed.  Was  this  the  reward  for 
their  unexampled  fidelity?  The  Pharisee  had  kept  his  blood 
pure  from  all  taint;  not  a  drop  of  foreign  blood  polluted  tlie 
veins  of  the  Hebrew  of  the  Hebrews.  When  Hellenism  threat- 
ened with  self-indulgent  philo.sophy  to  destroy  the  faith  of  their 
fathers,  the  Pharisees  had  resisted,  overwhelmed,  and  driven  it 
out.     Josephus,  himself  a  Pharisee,  says  of  them  :   "  In  their  own 

^ ^ 


rf^^ . a 

T/fE   OUTLOOK.  123 

ideca  they  are  the  flower  of  the  nation  and  the  most  accurate 
observers  of  the  Law."  And  yet  how  had  God  neglected  them ! 
His  conduct  was  inexplicable  and  sadly  mysterious.  It  was  not 
in  their  power  to  keep  their  soil,  nor  even  the  holy  Temple, 
from  the  hated  intrusion  of  the  idolater's  foot.  Their  priesthood 
had  been  converted  to  the  uses  of  the  detestable  Romans.  The 
high-priest,  once  venerated,  had  become  the  creature  of  Iduma?an 
Herod.  For  many  hundreds  of  years  before  Herod's  reign  the 
Jews  had  seen  but  one  high-priest  deposed.  But  from  the  con- 
quest of  Jerusalem  by  Herod  to  its  destruction  under  Titus,  a 
period  of  one  hundred  and  eight  years,  twenty-eight  high-priests 
had  been  nominated,  making  an  average  term  of  but  four  years 
to  each.  Rulers  were  filled  with  worldly  ambition,  and  scribes 
and  priests  were  continually  intriguing  and  quarrelling  amono- 
themselves.  Only  so  much  of  the  distinctive  Jewish  economy 
was  left  free  as  could  be  controlled  by  unscrupulous  politicians 
for  the  furtherance  of  their  own  selfish  ends.  Pride  and  avarice 
Avere  genuine;  benevolence  and  devotion  Avere  simulated  or 
openly  disowned. 

It  will  be  well  to  consider  with  some  particulai-ity  the  three 
forms  of  religious  development  which  existed  in  the  time  of  our 
Lord,  —  Ritualism,  Rationalism,  and  Asceticism,  — as  rejiresented 
respectively  by  the  Pharisee,  the  Sadducee,  and  the  Essene ;  and 
It  will  be  especially  necessary  to  be  acquainted  with  the  Phari- 
sees, who  were  our  Lord's  chief  and  constant  antagonists,  whose 
habits  furnished  continual  themes  for  his  discourses,  and'  whose 
malign  activity  at  length  was  the  chief  cause  of  his  death. 

In  no  such  sense  as  that  term  conveys  to  us  were  the  Phari- 
sees  an    organized    sect.^      They   represented    a   tendency,  and 

'  "  It  is  the  custom  to  contrast  the  Pharisees  with  the  Sadducees,  as  if  tliev  were  two 
opposite  sects  existing  in  the  midst  of  the  Jewish  nation  and  separated  fron;  the  body 
ot  the  Jews.  But  neither  the  Sadducees  nor  the  Pharisees  were  sects  in  the  common 
acceptation  of  the  word,  least  of  all  the  latter.  Taken  at  bottom,  the  nation  was  for  the 
most  part  Pharisaically  minded ;  in  other  words,  the  Pharisees  were  only  the  more  im- 
portant and  religiously  inclined  men  of  the  nation,  who  gave  the  most  decided  expres- 
sion to  the  prevailing  belief,  and  strove  to  establish  and  enforce  it  by  a  definite  system  of 
teaching  and  interpretation  of  the  sacred  books.  All  the  priests  who  were  not  mere 
blunt,  senseless  instruments  clung  to  the  Pharisaical  belief.  AH  the  Sephorim,  or  Scribes, 
were  at  the  same  time  Pharisees;  and  where  they  are  spoken  of  side  by  side  a.s  two 
different  classes,  by  the  latter  (Pharisees)  must  be  understood  those  who,  without  belong- 
ing by  calling  or  position  to  the  body  of  the  learned,  were  yet  zealous  in  setting  forth  its 


ft 


-ff 


a- -a 

124  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE  CHRIST. 

answered  nearly  to  our  phrase  of  "  High  Church "  among  the 
Episcopalians,  by  which  we  do  not  mean  a  separate  organization 
within  that  sect,  but  only  a  mode  or  direction  of  thought  and 
administration. 

In  their  origin  and  early  functions  the  Pharisees  deserved 
well  of  their  countrymen,  and  not  so  ill  of  posterity  as  it  has 
fared  with  them.  When  the  Jews  were  carried  to  Babylon,  so 
dependent  had  they  always  been  upon  the  Temple  and  the  or- 
ganized priesthood,  that,  in  the  absence  of  these,  their  chief 
religious  supports  fell  to  the  ground.  The  people,  left  with- 
out teachers,  exiled,  surrounded  by  idolatrous  practices  which 
tempted  the  passions  of  men  with  peculiar  fascination,  were 
likely  to  forget  the  worship  of  their  fathers,  and  not  only  to 
lapse  into  idolatry,  but  by  intermarriages  to  be  absorbed  and  to 
lose  their  very  nationality.  It  was  therefore  a  generous  and 
patriotic  impulse  which  inspired  many  of  the  more  earnestly 
religious  Jews  to  separate  themselves  from  all  foreign  influences, 
and  to  keep  alive  the  Jewish  spirit  among  their  poor,  oppressed 
countrymen.  The  name  Pharisee,  in  the  Hebrew,  signifies  one 
who  is  scpanded.  When  first  applied,  it  meant  a  Jew  who,  accord- 
ing to  the  Levitical  Law,  in  captivity  kept  himself  scrupulously 
separate  from  all  defilements.  Unfortunately,  the  Pharisee 
sought  worthy  ends  by  an  almost  purely  external  course.  In 
this  respect  he  is  in  contrast  with  the  English  Puritan  of  the 
sixteenth  century.  Both  of  them  were  intensely  patriotic  ;  both 
set  themselves  vigorously  against  the  seductive  refinements  and 
artful  blandishments  of  their  times.  The  English  Puritan,  with 
a  clear  perception  of  moral  truth,  and  with  utter  faith  in  the 
power  of  inward  and  spiritual  dispositions,  was  inclined  to  sac- 
rifice forms,  ceremonies,  and  symbols,  as  helps  liable  too  easily 
to  become  hindrances,  fixing  the  senses  upon  an  externality,  and 
leading  men  aw\ay  from  simple  spiritual  truth.  But  the  early 
Jewish  Puritan  had  nothing  to  work  with  except  the  old  Mosaic 
Law.  He  sought  to  put  that  between  his  countrymen  and  idol- 
atry. By  inciting  them  to  reverence  and  to  pi-ide  in  their  own 
Law  he  saved  them  from  apostasy,  and  kept  alive  in  their  mem- 
principles,  teachings,  and  practices,  and  surpassed  others  in  the  example  tliey  gave  of 
the  most  exact  observance  of  the  law."  —  DoUinger's  The  Gentile  and  the  Jew,  (London, 
1862,)  Vol.  II.  pp.   304,  305. 

^ ^ * 


^ -ft 

TI/i;   OUTLOOK  125 

ories  the  hif«toi\y  of  their  fathers  and  the  love  for  their  native 
lanil.  And  so  far  the  labor  of  the  Pharisee  deserved  praise. 
But  the  Levitical  Law  required,  in  the  great  change  of  circum- 
stances induced  by  the  Captivity,  a  re-adaptation,  and,  as  new 
exigencies  arose,  new  interpretations.  Gradually  the  Pharisees 
became  expounders  of  the  Law.  They  grew  minute,  technical, 
literal.  They  sought  for  religion  neither  in  the  immediate  inspi- 
ration of  God  nor  in  nature,  but  in  the  books  of  Moses  and  of 
the  Prophets.  They  were  zealous  for  tradition  and  ceremony. 
The  old  landmarks  were  sacred  to  them.  Yet  they  overlaid  the 
simplicity  of  the  ancient  Hebi-ew  faith  with  an  enormous  mass 
of  pedantic,  pragmatical  details,  that  smothered  the  heart  and 
tormented  the  conscience  of  the  devotee.  Their  moral  sense 
was  drilled  upon  mere  conventional  qualities.  It  had  no  intui- 
tion and  no  liberty.     It  became  the  slave  of  the  senses. 

Little  by  little  the  work  grew  upon  their  hands.  Cases 
multiplied.  Nice  distinctions,  exceptions,  divisions,  and  subdi- 
visions increased  with  an  enormous  fecundity.  The  commentary 
smothered  the  text.  The  interpreters  were  in  thorough  earnest ; 
but  their  conscience  ran  to  leaf  and  not  to  fruit.  That  befell 
the  Pharisees  which  sooner  or  later  befalls  all  ritualists, —  they 
fell  into  the  idolatry  of  symljolism.  The  symbol  erelong  ab- 
sox'bs  into  itself  the  idea  which  it  was  sent  to  convey.  The 
artificial  sign  grows  fairer  to  the  senses  than  is  the  truth  to 
the  soul.  Like  manna,  symbols  must  be  gathered  fresh  exery 
day.  The  Pharisee  could  not  resist  the  inevitable  tendency. 
He  heaped  upon  life  such  a  mass  of  helps  and  guides,  such  an 
endless  profusion  of  minute  duties,  that  no  sensitive  conscience 
could  endure  the  thrall.  One  class  of  minds  went  into  torment 
and  bondage,  of  which  Paul  gives  an  inimitable  picture  in  the 
seventh  chapter  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans.  Another  class, 
harder  and  more  self-confident,  conceived  themselves  obedient  to 
the  whole  round  of  duty,  and  became  conceited  and  vainglorious. 

The  Pharisees  were  sincere,  but  sincere  in  a  way  that  must 
destroy  tenderness,  devoutness,  and  benevolence,  and  that  must 
minister  to  conceit,  hardness  of  heart,  and  intolerant  arrogance. 
No  religion  can  be  true,  and  no  worship  can  be  useful,  that  does 
not  educate  the  understanding,  kindle  the  aspirations,  give  to 
the   spiritual    part  a  master}-  over  the   senses,   and  nnvke   man 


[& 


4 


[fl- -a 

12G  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

stronger,  nobler,  freer,  and  purer  than  it  found  him.  Religion 
proves  its  divinity  by  augmenting  the  power  and  contents  of 
manhood.  If  it  destroys  strength  mider  the  pretence  of  regu- 
lation, it  becomes  a  superstition  and  a  tyranny. 

The  Pharisees  had  not  escaped  the  influence  of  the  prevalent 
philosophies.  Although  they  wei'e  working  away  from  the  Hel- 
lenistic influence,  they  were  indirectly  moulded  by  it.  It  was 
essentially  in  the  refining  spirit  of  Greek  philosophy  that  they 
interpreted  the  old  Hebrew  statutes.  Not  that  they  desired 
them  to  be  less  Jewish.  They  sought  to  make  them  more  in- 
tensely national.  The  Greek  spirit  wrought  in  the  Jew  to  make 
him  more  intensely  Jewish. 

But  Grecian  influence  had  raised  up  another  school,  that  of 
the  Sadducees.  They  were  the  Epicureans  of  Juda^i.  It  is 
probable  that,  unlike  the  Pharisees,  the  Sadducees  recognized 
the  Grecian  philosophy,  and  applied  it  to  the  interpretation  of 
the  Mosaic  statutes.  They  accepted  the  chief  doctrine  of  the 
Epicurean  philosophy.  They  admitted  the  agency  of  God  in 
creation.  They  taught  that  things  had  a  nature  of  their  own, 
and  that,  after  being  once  created  and  set  going,  they  had  need 
of  no  Divine  interference  in  the  way  of  providential  govei'n- 
ment.  Every  man  had  his  fate  in  his  own  hands.  Having  or- 
ganized the  system  of  nature,  God  withdrew  himself,  leaving 
men  to  their  own  absolute  freedom.  Man  was  his  own  master. 
He  was  the  author  of  his  own  good  and  of  his  own  evil,  and 
both  the  good  and  the  evil  they  believed  to  be  confined  to 
this  life.  Death  ended  the  history.  There  Avas  to  be  no  new 
life,  no  resurrection. 

We  are  not  to  suppose  that  the  Sadducees  abandoned  the 
Jewish  Scriptures  for  anj-  form  of  Grecian  philosophy.  They 
rejected  all  the  modern  interpretations  and  additions  of  the  old 
Hebrew  institutes.  They  professed  to  hold  to  the  literal  con- 
struction and  interpretation  of  the  sacred  Scriptures.  Thej^  re- 
jected all  tenets  that  were  not  found  in  Moses  and  the  prophets. 
This  principle  forced  them  to  assume  a  negative  philosophy. 
They  stuck  to  the  letter  of  the  Law,  that  they  might  shake 
off  the  vast  accumulations  which  it  had  received  at  the  hands 
of  tlie  Pharisees.  But  in  doing  this  they  rendered  themselves 
infidel  to  the  deepest  moral  convictions  of  their  age.     The  spirit 


a- , 

THE   OUTLOOK.  127 

of  denial  is  essentially  infidel.  Belief  is  indispensable  to  moral 
health,  even  if  the  tenets  believed  be  artificial.  There  is  no 
reason  to  think  that  the  Sadducees  had  a  deep  religious  life,  or 
any  positive  convictions  which  redeemed  them  from  the  danger  at- 
tending a  system  of  negation.  They  were  a  priestly  clas.s?  scep- 
tical of  the  truths  which  the  best  men  of  their  age  cherished. 
Thus,  while  they  were  strict  in  their  construction  of  the  text, 
they  were  liberal  in  doctrine.  It  was  through  literalism  that 
they  sought  liberalism.  If  their  refusal  of  the  Pharisaic  tradi- 
tions and  glosses  had  been  for  the  sake  of  introducing  a  larger 
spiritual  element,  they  would  have  deserved  better  of  their  coun- 
trymen. As  it  was,  they  were  not  popular.  They  were  not 
the  leaders  of  the  masses,  nor  the  representatives  of  the  popu- 
lar belief,  nor  in  sympathy  with  the  common  people.  AVe  can 
hardly  regard  them  in  any  other  light  than  that  of  self-indul- 
gent and  ambitious  men,  using  the  national  religion  rather  as  a 
defence  against  the  charge  of  want  of  patriotism  than  from  any 
moral  convictions.  In  short,  they  were  thoroughly  worldly, 
selfish,  and  unlovely. 

Although  the  name  "Essene"  does  not  occur  in  the  New  Tes- 
tament, yet  the  sect  existed  in  the  time  of  Christ,  and  probably 
exercised  a  considerable  influence  upon  the   thought  of  many 
devout  Jews.      The  Essenes  observed  the  law  of  Moses  with  a 
rigor  surpassing  that  of  any  of  their  countrymen.     They,  how- 
ever,   rejected    animal   sacrifices.      There    seems    to    have   been 
among  them  an  element  of  worship  derived  from  the  Persians. 
They  addressed  petitions  each  morning  to  the  sun.     They  felt 
bound    to   refrain  in  word  or  act   from   anything   which   could 
profane    that   luminary.      They    kept    the    Sabbath    even    more 
rigorously  than  the   Pharisees.      They  prepared    all    then-   food 
the  day  before.      Not  only  would    they  kindle  no  fires  on  the 
Sabbath,  but  they  would  suffer  no  vessel  to  be  moved  from  its 
place,  nor  would  they  satisfy  on  that  day  any  of  their  natural 
and  necessary  desires.      They  lived  in  communities,  very  much 
apart  from  general  society ;    but  this   does   not   seem  to  have 
arisen  so  much  from  an  ascetic  spirit  as  from  the  excessively 
restrictive  notions  which  they  cherished  on  the  matter  of  legal 
purity.     To  the  contaminations  established  by  the  Mosaic  code, 
and  all  the  additional  ceremonial   impurities  which    the    ritual 


-a 


ft 


-ff 


128  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

zeal  of  the  Pharisee  rendered  imminent,  tliey  added  others  even 
more  severe.  To  touch  any  one  not  of  his  own  order  defiled  an 
Essene.  Even  an  Essene,  if  of  a  lower  grade,  could  not  be 
touched  without  defilement.  Such  particularit}^  could  scarcely 
fail  to  work  social  seclusion.  Their  meals  Avere  strictly  sacrifi- 
cial, and  looked  upon  as  religious  actions.  Every  one  washed 
his  whole  body  before  eating,  and  put  on  a  clean  linen  gar- 
ment, wliich  was  laid  aside  at  the  end  of  the  meal.  The  baker 
and  the  cook  placed  before  each  his  mess,  and  the  priest  then 
blessed  the  food,  before  which  none  dared  to  taste  a  morsel. 

They  held  their  property  in  common ;  so  that  the  temporary 
communit}^  of  goods  by  the  Christians,  after  the  Pentecostal  day, 
was  not  a  new  or  uncommon  act  among  the  Jews.  Marriage 
was  forbidden.  No  buying  or  selling  was  2)*?i'»iitt6d  among 
themselves.  They  disallowed  both  slavery  and  war,  neither 
would  they  sufter  any  of  their  sect  to  forge  warlike  arms  for 
others.  They  were  under  the  strictest  suliordination  to  their 
own  superiors,  and  implicit  obedience  was  a  prime  virtue.  They 
maintained  perfect  silence  in  their  assemblies  and  during  their 
repasts.  Only  adults  were  taken  into  the  brotherhood,  and  these 
were  required  to  undergo  a  probation  of  a  year,  and  they  then 
entered  but  the  lowest  grade.  Two  years  more  were  required 
for  full  membership.  The  Essenes  abhorred  pleasure.  They 
were  temperate  in  all  things,  —  in  food,  in  the  indulgence  of 
their  passions,  and  in  enjoyments  of  every  kind.  In  many 
respects  they  seem  to  have  resembled  the  modern  Shakers. 

The  Sadducees,  being  a  priestly  and  aristocratic  class,  were  not 
disposed  to  take  any  office  which  would  impose  trouble  or  care, 
and  looked  with  indifterence  or  contempt  upon  the  greater  part 
of  that  which  passed  for  religion  among  the  people.  The  Essenes 
were  small  in  numbers,  their  habits  of  life  were  secluded,  and 
tliey  do  not  seem  to  have  made  any  effort  at  influencing  the 
mind  of  the  people  at  large.  Only  the  Pharisees  took  pains  to 
instruct  the  people.  And  we  shall  not  understand  the  atmos- 
phere which  surrounded  our  Lord,  if  we  do  not  take  into  consid- 
eration the  kind  of  teaching  given  by  them,  and  the  national 
feeling  which  it  had  produced. 

We  are  not  to  undervalue  the  real  excellence  of  the  Mosaic 
institutes  on  account  of  the  burdensome  and  frivolous  additions 

^ ^ 


[&- -a 

THE   OUTLOOK.  129 

made  to  them  during  a  long  series  of  interpretations  and  com- 
mentaries. The  institutes  of  Moses  inculcated  a  sound  morality, 
a  kind  and  benevolent  spirit,  obedience  to  God,  and  reverence 
for  divine  things.  But  as  it  was  interpreted  by  the  Piiarisees  it 
disprojjortionately  directed  the  attention  to  external  acts.  The 
state  of  the  heart  was  not  wholly  neglected.  Many  excellent 
distinctions  were  drawn,  and  wise  maxims  were  given  respecting 
purity  of  thought  and  rectitude  of  motive.  But  the  influence 
of  a  system  depends,  not  upon  few  or  many  truths  scattered 
up  and  down  in  it,  but  upon  the  accent  and  emphasis  which 
is  given  to  its  different  parts.  Paul  bears  witness  that  his 
countrymen  had  a  "  zeal  of  God,  but  not  according  to  knowl- 
edge." Like  men  in  a  wrong  road,  the  longer  they  toiled  the 
fiirther  they  were  from  the  end  sought.  Yet  they  did  not 
regard  themselves  as  in  the  wrong.  God  had  given  them  the 
Law.  The  most  signal  promises  followed  obedience  to  that  Law. 
They  should  overcome  all  their  enemies.  They  should  become 
the  governors  of  those  who  now  oppressed  them.  Therefore  to 
that  obedience  they  addressed  themselves  with  all  their  zeal  and 
conscience.  Lest  they  should  fail  unwittingly^,  it  was  a  ma'xim 
with  them  that  they  should  do  even  more  than  the  Law  required. 
And  such  was  the  scrupulosity  of  the  Pharisee,  that  he  came  to 
feel  that  he  did  perfectly  keep  the  Law,  and  therefore  waited  im- 
patiently for  the  fulfilment  of  the  Divine  promises.  It  was  a 
distinct  bargain.  The}'  were  all  looking  and  waiting  for  the  Mes- 
siah. When  he  should  come,  he  would  give  to  the  nation  the 
long-needed  leader.  All  would  unite  in  him.  He  would  march 
at  the  head  of  the  whole  population  to  expel  the  Eomans,  to 
redeem  Jerusalem,  to  purify  the  Temple,  to  extend  the  sway  of 
the  Jewish-  religion.  They  brooded  over  these  joj'ful  prospects. 
Thus,  they  had  their  tests  of  Messiahship.  He  must  hate  idol- 
aters. He  must  have  the  gift  of  leadership.  He  must  repre- 
sent the  intensest  spirit  of  Jewish  patriotism.  He  must  aim  to 
make  Israel  the  head  and  benefactor  of  all  the  nations  on  earth. 
It  is  plain  that  Jesus  could  not  meet  such  expectations.  He 
must  have  known  from  the  beginning  what  reception  his  coun- 
trjanen  would  give  him,  should  he  at  once  announce  himself  as 
the  Messiah  ;  and  this  will  explain  his  silence,  or  the  guarded 
private  uttej-ance,  in  the  beginning,  as  to  his  nature  and  claims. 

[^__ ^ __ ^ 


130  THE  LIFE    OF  JESUS,    THE  CHRIST. 

Unfovorable  as  was  the  religious  aspect,  the  poUtical  condition 
of  Palestine  was  even  worse.  The  nation  was  in  the  stage  pre- 
ceding dissolution,  —  subdued  by  the  Eomans,  farmed  out  to 
court  favorites,  governed  by  them  with  remorseless  cruelty  and 
avarice.  The  fiery  and  fanatical  patriotism  of  the  Jew  was  con- 
tinually bursting  out  into  bloody  insurrection.  Without  great 
leaders,  without  any  consistent  and  wise  plan  of  operations,  these 
frequent  and  convulsive  spasms  of  misery  were  instantly  re- 
pressed by  the  Eomans  with  incredible  slaughter. 

Even  if  it  had  been  a  part  of  the  design  of  Jesus  to  rescue 
the  Jewish  nation  and  perpetuate  it,  he  came  too  late.  These 
frequent  convulsions  were  the  expiring  struggles  of  a  doomed 
people.  Already  the  prophecies  hung  low  over  the  city.  Death 
was  in  the  very  air.  The  remnant  of  the  people  was  to  l)e 
scattered  up  and  down  in  the  earth,  as  the  wind  chases  autumnal 
leaves.  Jesus  stood  alone.  He  Avas  apparenth'  but  a  peasant 
mechanic.  That  which  was  dearest  to  his  heart  men  cared  noth- 
ing for ;  that  which  all  men  were  eagerly  pursuing  was  nothing 
to  him.  He  had  no  party,  he  could  conciliate  no  interest.  The 
serpent  of  hatred  was  coiled  and  waiting ;  and,  though  it  delayed 
to  strike,  the  fling  Avas  there,  ready  and  venomous,  as  soon  as 
his  foot  should  tread  upon  it.  The  rich  were  luxurious  and  self- 
indulgent.  The  learned  were  not  wise  ;  they  were  vain  of  an 
immense  acquisition  of  infinitesimal  fribbles.  The  ignorant  peo- 
ple were  besotted,  the  educated  class  was  coiTupt,  the  govern- 
ment was  foreign,  the  Temple  was  in  the  hands  of  factious 
priests  playing  a  game  of  worldly  ambition.  Who  was  on  his 
side?  At  what  point  should  he  begin  his  mission,  and  how? 
Should  he  stand  in  Jerusalem  and  preach?  Should  he  enter 
the  Temple,  and  announce  to  the  grand  council  his  true  char- 
acter ? 

It  was  not  the  purpose  of  Jesus  to  present  himself  to  the 
nation  with  sudden  or  dramatic  outburst.  There  was  to  be  a 
gradual  unfolding  of  his  claims,  of  the  truth,  and  of  his  whole 
nature.  In  this  respect  he  conformed  to  the  law  of  that  world 
in  Avhich  he  was  infixed,  and  of  that  race  with  whose  nature 
and  condition  he  had  identified  himself.  We  shall  find  him,  in 
the  beginning,  joining  his  ministry  on  to  that  of  John  :  we  shall 

4^- -# 


cp- -a 

THE   OUTLOOK.  131 

next  see  him  taking  up  the  rehgious  truths  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment which  were  common  to  him  and  to  the  people,  but  cleansino- 
them  of  their  grosser  interpretations,  and  giving  to  them  a 
spiritual  meaning  not  before  suspected  :  then  we  shall  find  a 
silent  change  of  manner,  the  language  and  the  bearing  of  one 
who  knows  himself  to  be  Divine :  and  finallj^,  toward  the  close 
of  his  work,  we  shall  see  the  full  disclosure  of  the  truth,  his 
equality  with  the  Father,  his  sacrificial  relations  to  the  Jews  and 
to  all  the  world ;  and  in  connection  with  this  last  fact  we  shall 
hear  the  annunciation  of  that  truth  most  repugnant  to  a  Jew,  a 
sufferimj  Messiah. 

Not  only  shall  we  find  this  law  of  progressive  development 
exemplified  in  a  general  way,  but  we  shall  see  it  in  each  minor 
element.  His  own  nature  and  claims,  implied  rather  than  as- 
serted at  first,  he  taught  with  an  increasing  emphasis  and  fulness 
of  disclosure  to  the  end  of  his  ministry.  His  doctrine  of  spir- 
itual life,  as  unfolded  in  the  private  discourses  with  his  disciples 
just  before  his  Passion,  and  recorded  in  the  five  chapters  begin- 
ning with  the  twelfth  of  John's  Gospel,  are  remarkable,  not 
alone  for  their  spiritual  depth  and  fervor,  but  as  showing  how 
far  his  teachings  had  by  that  time  gone  beyond  the  Sermon  on 
the  Mount.  The  earlier  and  later  teachings  are  in  contrast,  not 
in  respect  to  relative  perfection,  but  in  the  order  of  develop- 
ment. Both  are  perfect,  but  one  as  a  germ  and  the  other  as 
its  blossom.  Jesus  observed  in  all  his  ministry  that  law  of 
groAvth  which  he  affirmed  in  respect  to  the  kingdom  of  Heaven. 
It  is  a  seed,  said  he,  the  smallest  of  all  seeds  when  sown,  but 
when  it  is  gro^vn  it  is  a  tree.  At  another  time  he  distinguished 
the  very  stages  of  growth :  "  First  the  blade,  then  the  ear, 
after  that  the  full  corn  in  the  ear."     (Mark  iv.  28.) 

We  are  then  to  look  for  this  unfolding  process  in  the  teach- 
ings of  Jesus.  We  shall  find  him  gathering  up  the  threads  of 
morality,  already  partly  woven  into  the  moral  consciousness  of 
his  time ;  we  shall  see  how  in  his  hands  morality  assumed  a 
higher  type,  and  was  made  to  spring  from  nobler  motives.  Then 
we  shall  find  the  intimations  of  an  interior  and  spiritual  life 
expanding  and  filling  a  larger  sphere  of  thought,  until  in  the 
full  radiance  of  his  later  teachings  it  dazzles  the  eyes  of  his 
disciples  and  transcends  their  spiritual  capacity. 


I 


-ff 


B- -a 

132  THE  LIFE    OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

In  like  maiinei-  the  divinity  of  Christ's  own  nature  and  office 
was  not  made  prominent  at  first;  but  gradually  it  grew  into 
notice,  until  during  the  last  half-year  it  assumed  the  air  of  sov- 
ereignty. In  nothing  is  this  so  strikingly  shown  as  in  the 
teaching  of  his  own  personal  relations  to  all  true  spiritual  life 
in  every  individual.  It  is  sublime  when  God  declares  himself 
to  be  the  fountain  of  life.  It  would  be  insufferable  arrogance 
in  a  mere  man.  But  by  every  form  of  assertion,  with  incessant 
repetition,  Jesus  taught  with  growing  intensity  as  his  death 
drew  near,  that  in  him,  and  only  in  him,  were  the  sources  of 
spiritual  life.  '•  Come  unto  me,"  "  Learn  of  me,"  "  Abide  in 
me,"  '•  Without  me  ye  can  do  nothing."  And  yet,  in  the  midst 
of  such  incessant  assertions  of  himself,  he  declared,  and  all  the 
world  has  conceded   it,  "  I  am  meek  and  lowly  in  heart." 

There  was  a  corresponding  development  in  his  criticism  of 
the  prevailing  religious  life,  and  in  the  attacks  which  he  made 
upon  the  ruling  classes.  His  miracles,  too,  assumed  a  higher 
type  from  period  to  period ;  and,  although  we  cannot  draw  a 
line  at  the  precise  periods  of  transition,  yet  no  one  can  fail  to 
mark  how  much  deeper  was  the  moral  significance  of  the  mira- 
cles wrought  in  the  last  few  months  of  his  life,  than  that  of 
those  in  the  opening  of  his  career.  We  are  not  to  look,  then, 
for  a  ministry  blazing  Ibrth  at  the  beginning  in  its  full  efful- 
gence. We  are  to  see  Jesus,  ^vithout  signals  or  ostentation, 
taking  up  John's  teaching,  and  beginning  to  preach,  "  Repent, 
for  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at  hand";  we  are  to  wait  for  fur- 
ther disclosures  issuing  naturally  and  gradually,  in  an  ascending 
series.  The  whole  life  of  Jesus  was  a  true  and  normal  growth. 
His  ministry  did  not  come  like  an  orb,  round  and  shining,  per- 
fect and  full,  at  the  first:  it  was  a  regular  and  symmetrical 
development. 

True,  it  differed  from  all  other  and  ordinary  human  growths, 
in  that  no  part  of  his  teaching  was  false  or  crude.  It  was 
partial,  but  never  erroneous.  The  first  enunciations  were  as 
absolutely  true  as  the  last ;  but  he  unfolded  rudimentary  truths 
in  an  order  and  in  forms  suitable  lor  their  propagation  upon 
the  human  understanding. 

It  is  in  these  views  that  we  shall  find  a  solution  of  the  seem- 
ing want  of  plan  in  the  life  of  Jesus.     There  is  no  element  in 

. ^ 


0- 


THE   OUTLOOK.  133 

it  which  answers  to  oivr  ordinary  idea  of  a  prearranged  cam- 
paign. He  knew  that  he  was  a  sower  of  seed,  and  not  the 
reaper.  It  was  of  more  importance  that  he  should  produce  a 
powerful  spiritual  impression,  than  that  he  should  give  an  or- 
ganized form  to  his  followers.  It  was  better  that  he  should 
develop  the  germs  of  a  Divine  spiritual  life,  than  that  he  should 
work  any  immediate  change  in  the  forms  of  society. 

The  Mosaic  institutes  had  aimed  at  a  spiritual  life  in  man 
by  Ijuilding  up  around  him  restraining  influences,  acting  thus 
ujwn  the  soul  from  the  outside.  Jesus  transferred  the  seat  of 
action  to  the  soul  itself,  and  rendered  it  capable  of  self-control. 
Others  had  sought  to  overcome  and  put  do-wn  the  appetites  and 
passions  ;  Jesus,  by  developing  new  forces  in  the  soul  and  ifivino- 
Divine  excitement  to  the  spiritual  nature,  regulated  the  passions 
and  harmonized  them  with  the  moral  ends  of  life.  When  once 
the  soul  derived  its  highest  stimulus  from  God,  it  might  safely 
be  trusted  to  develop  all  its  lower  forces,  which,  by  subordina- 
tion, became  auxiliary.  Jesus  sought  to  develop  a  whole  and 
perfect  manhood,  nothing  lost,  nothing  in  excess.  He  neither 
repelled  nor  undervalued  secular  thrift,  social  morality,  civil 
order,  nor  the  fruits  of  an  intellectual  and  aesthetic  culture ;  he 
did  not  labor  directly  for  these,  but  struck  farther  back  at  a 
potential  but  as  yet  undisclosed  nature  in  man,  Avhich  if  aroused 
and  brought  into  a  normal  and  vital  relation  with  the  Divine  soul 
would  give  to  all  the  earlier  developed  and  lower  elements  of 
man's  nature  a  more  complete  control  than  had  ever  before 
been  found,  and  would  so  fertilize  and  fructify  the  whole  nature 
that  the  outward  life  would  have  no  need  of  special  patterns. 
Children  act  from  rides.  Men  act  from  principles.  A  time  will 
come  when  they  will  act  from  intuitions,  and  right  and  wrong 
in  the  familiar  matters  of  life  will  be  determined  by  the  agree- 
ment or  disagreement  of  things  with  the  moral  sensibilitv,  as 
music  and  beauty  in  art  already  are  fii-st  felt,  and  afterwards 
reasoned  upon  and  analyzed. 

If  this  be  a  true  rendering  of  Christ's  method,  it  will  be 
apparent  that  all  theories  which  imply  that  anj'  outward  forms 
of  society,  or  special  elements  of  art  and  industry,  or  the  organ- 
ization of  a  church,  or  the  purification  of  the  household,  or  any 
other  special  and  deteraiinate  external  act   or   order   of  events 

^' ^ 


134:  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

or  institutions,  were  parts  of  liis  plan,  will  ftiil  in  appreciating 
the  one  grand  distinctive  fact,  namely,  that  it  was  a  psycho- 
logical kingdom  that  he  came  to  found.  He  aimed  not  to 
construct  a  new  system  of  morals  or  of  philosophy,  but  a  new 
soul,  with  new  capabilities,  under  new  spiritual  influences.  Of 
course  an  outward  life  and  form  would  be  developed  from  this 
inspiration.  Men  would  still  need  governments,  institutions, 
customs.  But  with  a  regulated  and  reinforced  nature  they 
could  be  safely  left  to  evolve  these  from  their  own  reason 
and  experience.  As  much  as  ever,  there  would  be  need  of 
states,  churches,  schools.  But  for  none  of  these  need  any  pat- 
tern be  given.  They  were  left  to  be  developed  freely,  as 
experience  should  dictate.  Government  is  inevitable.  It  is  a 
universal  constitutional  necessity  in  man.  There  was  no  more 
need  of  providing  for  that,  than  of  providing  for  sleep  or  for 
breathing.  Life,  if  fully  developed  and  left  free  to  choose,  will 
find  its  way  to  all  necessary  outward  forms,  in  government,  in 
society,  and  in  industry. 

Therefore  they  utterly  misconceive  the  genius  of  Christ's  work 
who  suppose  that  he  aimed  at  the  establishment  of  an  organized 
church.  Beyond  the  incidental  commands  to  his  disciples  to 
draw  together  and  maintain  intimate  social  life,  there  is  no 
special  or  distinctive  provision  for  church  organization.  That 
was  left  to  itself  As  after  events  have  shown,  the  tendency  to 
organize  was  already  too  strong.  Religion  has  been  imprisoned 
in  its  own  institutions.  Perhaps  the  most  extraordinary  contrast 
ever  known  to  history  is  that  which  exists  between  the  genius 
of  the  Gospels  and  the  pompous  claims  of  church  hierarchies. 
Christians  made  haste  to  repeat  the  mistakes  of  the  Hebrews. 
Religion  ran  rank  to  outwardness.  The  fruit,  hidden  by  the 
enormous  growth  of  leaves,  could  not  ripen.  Spirituality  died 
of  ecclesiasticism.  If  the  Church  has  been  the  nurse,  it  has 
also  been  often  the  destroyer  of  religion. 

If  Jesus  came  to  found  a  church,  never  were  actions  so  at 
variance  with  purposes.  There  are  no  recorded  instructions  to 
this  end.  He  remained  in  the  full  communion  of  the  Jewish 
Church  to  the  last.  Nor  did  his  disciples  or  apostles  dream  of 
leaving  the  church  of  their  fathers.  They  went  up  with  their 
countrvmen,  at  the  great  festivals,  to  Jerusalem.     They  resorted 

t— ^ ^ 


^ -a 

Tffi;   OUTLOOK.  135 

to  the  Temple  for  worship.  They  attempted  to  develop  their 
new  life  within  the  old  forms.  Little  by  little,  and  slowly,  they 
learned  by  experience  that  new  vdne  could  not  be  kept  in  old 
bottles.  The  new  life  required  and  found  better  conditions,  a 
freer  conscience,  fewer  rules,  more  liberty.  For  a  short  period 
the  enfranchised  soul,  in  its  new  promised  land,  shone  forth  with 
gi-eat  glory ;  but  then,  like  the  fathers  of  old,  believers  fell 
back  from  liberty  to  superstition,  and  for  a  thousand  years  have 
been  in  captivity  to  spiritual  Babylon. 

The  captivity  is  drawing  to  a  close.  The  Jerusalem  of  the 
Spirit  is  descending,  adorned  as  a  bride  for  the  bridegroom. 
The  new  life  in  God  is  gathering  disciples.  They  are  finding 
each  other.  Not  disdaining  outward  helps,  they  are  learning 
that  the  Spirit  alone  is  essential.  All  creeds,  churches,  institu- 
tions, customs,  ordinances,  are  but  steps  upon  which  the  Chris- 
tian plants  his  foot,  that  they  may  help  him  to  ascend  to  the 
perfect  liberty  in  Christ  Jesus. 


fr ^ 


[&- 


-a 


KANA-EL-JELIL. 


CHAPTER    IX. 


THE   HOUSEHOLD    GATE. 


IF  one  considers  that,  after  his  experience  in  the  wilderness, 
Jesus  seems  for  a  period  of  some  months  to  have  I'eturned  to 
private  life, — that  he  neither  went  to  the  Temple  in  Jerusalem, 
nor  appeared  before  the  religious  teachers  of  his  people,  nor  even 
apparently  entered  the  Holy  City,  but  abruptly  departed  to  Gali- 
lee,—  it  may  seem  as  if  he  had  no  plan  of  procedure,  but 
waited  until  events  should  open  the  way  into  his  ministry. 

But  what  if  it  was  his  purjiose  to  refuse  all  j^ublic  life  in  our 
sense  of  that  term  ?  "What  if  he  meant  to  remain  a  jirivate  citi- 
zen, working  as  one  friend  would  with  another,  eschewing  the 
roads  of  influence  already  laid  out,  and  going  back  to  that  simple 
personal  power  which  one  heart  has  upon  another  in  genial  and 
friendly  contact? 

His  power  was  to  be,  not  with  whole  communities,  but  with 
the  individual,  —  from  man  to  man;  and  it  was  to  spring,  not 
from  any  machinery  of  institution  wielded  by  man,  nor  from 
official  position,  but  from  his  own  personal  nature,  and  from 
the  intrinsic  force  of  truth  to  be  uttered.  At  the  very  begin- 
ning, and  through  his  whole  career,  we  shall  find  Jesus  clinging 
to  private  life,  or  to  public  life  only  in  its  transient  and  spon- 
taneous developments  out  of  private  life.  He  taught  from  house 
to  house.  He  never  went  among  crowds.  They  gathered  about 
him,  and  dissolved  again  after  he  had  passed  on.  The  public 
roadside,  the  synagogues,  the  princely  mansion,  the  Temple,  the 


ft 


-ff 


a- -a 

THE  HOUSEHOLD    GATE.  137 

boat  by  the  sea-sliore,  the  poor  man's  cottage,  were  all  alike  mere 
incidents,  the  accidents  of  time  and  place,  and  not  in  any  man- 
ner things  to  be  depended  upon  for  influence.  He  was  not  an 
elder  or  a  ruler  in  the  synagogue,  nor  a  scribe  or  a  priest,  ])iit 
strictly  a  private  citizen.  He  was  in  his  own  simple  self  the 
whole  power. 

The  first  step  of  Jesus  in  his  ministry  is  a  return  home  to  his 
mother.  This  is  not  to  be  looked  at  merely  as  a  matter  of  senti- 
ment ;  it  is  characteristic  of  the  new  dispensation  which  he  came 
to  inaugurate. 

In  the  spiritual  order  that  was  now  to  be  introduced  there 
were  to  be  no  ranks  and  classes,  no  public  and  official  life  as 
distinguished  from  private  and  personal.  The  Church  was  to 
be  a  household ;  men  were  to  be  brethren,  "  members  one  of 
another."  God  was  made  known  as  the  Father,  magisterial 
in  love. 

Had  Jesus  separated  himself  from  the  common  life,  even  by 
assuming  the  garb  and  place  of  an  authorized  teacher,  had  he 
affiliated  with  the  Temple  officers,  had  he  been  in  any  way  con- 
nected Avith  a  hierarchy,  his  course  would  have  been  at  variance 
with  one  aim  of  his  mission.  It  was  the  jirivate  life  of  the  woild 
to  which  he  came.  His  own  personal  life,  his  home  life,  his  famil- 
iar association  with  men,  his  social  intercourse,  formed  his  true 
jmblic  career.  He  was  not  to  break  in  upon  the  world  with  the 
boisterous  energy  of  warriors,  —  "He  shall  not  strive  nor  cry"; 
nor  was  he  to  seek,  after  the  manner  of  ambitious  orators,  to 
dazzle  the  people,  —  "  His  voice  shall  not  be  heard  in  the  streets." 
Without  pressing  unduly  this  prophecy  of  the  Messiah,  it  may  be 
said  that  it  discriminates  between  an  ambitious  and  noisy  career, 
and  a  ministry  that  was  to  move  among  men  Avith  gentleness, 
affability,  sympathy,  and  loving  humilitA\ 

"We  shall  lose  an  essential  characteristic  of  both  his  disi)osition 
and  his  dispensation,  if  Ave  accustom  ourselves  to  think  of  Jesus 
as  a  public  man,  in  our  sense  of  official  eminence.  We  are  to 
look  for  him  among  the  common  scenes  of  daily  life,  not  dis- 
tinguished in  any  Avay  from  the  people  about  him,  except  in 
superior  Avisdom  and  goodness.  It  is  true  that  he  often  stood 
in  public  places,  but  only  as  any  other  Jcav  might  have  done. 

^ -# 


#- ^ 

138  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

He  was  never  set  apart  in  any  manner  after  tlie  usages  of  the 
priesthood.  He  came  back  from  artificial  arrangements  to  nature. 
There  is  great  signifitiance  in  the  title  by  which  he  almost  invari- 
ably spoke  of  himself,  —  "the  Son  of  Man."  By  this  title  he 
emphasized  his  mission.  He  had  descended  from  God.  He 
was  born  of  woman,  had  joined  himself  to  the  human  family, 
and  meant  to  cleave  fast  to  his  kindred.  To  one  conscious  of 
his  own  Divinity,  the  title  "Son  of  Man"  becomes  very  signifi- 
cant of  the  value  which  he  placed  upon  his  union  with  man- 
kind. His  personal  and  intimate  connection  with  the  great 
body  of  the  people,  beginning  with  his  early  years,  was  con- 
tinued to  the  end. 

It  is  not  strange,  then,  that  Jesus  began  his  active  ministry 
with  a  return  from  the  scene  of  his  temptation  to  his  former 
home.  He  did  not  pause  at  Nazareth,  but  either  went  with  his 
mother  or  followed  her  to  Cana,  where  a  wedding  was  to  take 
place.  There  were  two  Canas, —  one  now  called  Kefr  Kciiua, 
a  small  village  about  four  miles  and  a  half  northeast  of  Nazareth, 
and  Kana-el-Jelil,  about  nine  miles  north  of  Nazareth ;  and  tlie 
best  authorities  leave  it  still  uncertain  in  which  the  first  miracle 
of  our  Lord  was  pei'formed.  It  may  be  interesting,  but  it  is  not 
important,  to  determine  the  question. 

The  appearance  of  Jesus  at  the  wedding,  and  his  active  par- 
ticipation in  the  festivities,  are  full  of  meaning.  It  is  highly  im- 
probable that  John  the  Baptist  could  have  been  persuaded  to 
appear  at  such  a  service.  For  he  lived  apart  from  the  scenes 
of  common  life,  was  solitary,  and  even  severe.  His  followers 
would  have  been  strongly  inclined  to  fall  in  with  the  philoso- 
phy and  practices  of  the  Essenes.  If  so,  the  simple  pleasures 
and  the  ordinary  occupations  of  common  life  would  be  regarded 
as  inconsistent  with  religion.  Jesus  had  just  returned  from 
John's  presence.  He  had  passed  through  the  ordeal  of  solitude 
and  the  temptation  of  the  wilderness.  He  had  gathered  three 
or  fom"  disciples,  and  was  taking  the  first  stejis  in  his  early 
career.  That  the  very  first  act  should  be  an  attendance,  with 
his  disciples,  by  invitation,  at  a  Jewish  wedding,  which  was  sel- 
dom less  than  three  and  usually  of  seven  days'  duration,  and 
was  conducted  Avith  most  joyful  festivities,  cannot  but  be  re- 
garded as  a  significant  testimony. 

eg-. ^ 


^ ^ 

THE  HOUSEHOLD    GATE.  139 

The  Hebrews  were  led  by  their  religious  institutions  to  the  cul- 
tivation of  social  and  joyous  habits.  Their  great  religious  feasts 
were  celebrated  with  some  days  of  solemnity,  but  with  more  of 
festivity  such  as  would  seem  to  our  colder  manners  almost  like 
dissipation.  In  all  nations  the  wedding  of  young  people  calls 
forth  sympathy.  Among  the  Hebrews,  from  the  earliest  times, 
nuptial  occasions  were  celebrated  with  rejoicing.^,  in  which  the 
whole  community  took  some  part. 

The  scene  comes  before  us  clearly.  The  bridegroom's  house 
or  his  father's,  is  the  centre  of  festivity.  The  bride  and  groom 
spend  the  day  separately  in  seclusion,  in  confession  of  sin  and 
rites  of  purgation.  As  evening  draws  near,  the  friends  and  rel- 
atives of  the  bride  bring  her  forth  from  her  parents'  house  in 
full  bridal  apparel,  with  myrtle  vines  and  garlands  of  flowei's  about 
her  head.  Torches  precede  the  company ;  music  breaks  out  on 
every  side.  Besides  the  instruments  provided  for  the  processions, 
songs  greet  them  along  the  way;  for  the  street  is  lined  with 
virgins,  who  yield  to  the  fair  candidate  that  honor  which  they 
hope  in  time  for  themselves.  They  cast  flowers  before  her, 
and  little  cakes  and  roasted  ears  of  wheat.  The  street  resounds 
with  gayety ;  and  as  the  band  draws  near  the  appointed  dwell- 
ing, the  bridegroom  and  his  friends  come  forth  to  meet  the 
bride  and  to  conduct  her  into  the  house.  After  some  leo-al 
settlements  have  been  perfected,  and  the  marriage  service  has 
been  performed,  a  sumptuous  feast  is  provided,  and  the  utmost 
joy  and  merriment  reign.  Nor  do  the  festivities  terminate  with 
the  immediate  feast.  A  whole  week  is  devoted  to  rejoicing 
and  gayety. 

It  must  not  be  imagined,  however,  that  such  prolonged  social 
enjoyment  degenerated  into  dissipation.  In  luxurious  cities, 
and  especially  after  commerce  and  wealth  had  brought  in  for- 
eign manners,  the  grossest  excesses  came  to  prevail  at  great 
feasts ;  but  the  common  people  among  the  old  Hebrews  were, 
in  the  main,  temperate  and  abstinent.  That  almost  epidemic 
drunkenness  which  in  modern  times  has  prevailed  among 
Teutonic  races,  in  cold  climates,  was  unknown  to  the  great  body 
of  the  Hebrew  nation. 

The  sobriety  and  vigorous  industry  of  the  society  in  which 
we  have   been  educated   indisposes  us   to   .SA-mpathize  with  such 

^ ^ 


140  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,   THE  CHRIST. 

cxpoiiditure  of  time  for  .social  purposes  as  was  common  among 
the  Hebrews.  We  spare  a  single  day  at  long  intervals,  and 
then  hasten  back  to  our  tasks  as  if  escaping  from  an  evil. 
AVeddings  among  the  poorest  Jews,  as  we  have  said,  seldom  ab- 
sorbed less  than  thi-ee  days.  The  ordinary  term  of  conviviality 
was  seven  daj^s.  Among  men  of  wealth  or  eminent  station,  the 
genial  service  not  unfrequently  extended  to  fourteen  days. 
During  this  time,  neighbors  came  and  went.  Those  from  a 
distance  tarried  both  day  and  night.  The  time  was  filled  up 
with  entertainments  suitable  to  the  condition  of  the  various 
classes.  The  young  employed  the  cool  hours  with  dances. 
The  aged  quietly  looked  on,  or  held  trancjuil  converse  apart  from 
the  crowd.  Nor  was  intellectual  provision  wanting.  Readings 
and  addresses  were  then  unknown.  In  a  land  where  philosophy 
was  as  yet  only  a  collection  of  striking  proverbs  or  ingenious 
enigmas,  it  was  deemed  an  intellectual  exercise  to  propound 
riddles  and  "  dark  sayings,"  and  to  call  forth  the  exercise  of 
the  imagination  in  giving  solutions.  TJiese  occasions  were  not 
devoted,  then,  to  a  mere  riot  of  merry-making.  They  were 
the  meetings  of  long-dispersed  friends,  the  gathering-points  of 
connected  families;  in  the  absence  of  facilities  for  lVe<juent 
intercourse,  the  seven  days  of  a  wedding  feast  would  serve  as  a 
means  of  interconimunion  and  the  renewal  of  friendships ;  and 
it  was  peculiarly  after  the  genius  of  the  Hebrew  people  that  both 
religion  and  social  intercourse  shoidd  take  place  with  the  accom- 
paniments of  abundant  eating  and  drinking.  The  table  was 
loaded  with  provisions,  the  best  that  the  means  of  the  j^arties 
could  supply ;  nor  was  it  unusual  for  the  guests  also  to  con- 
tribute to  the  common  stock. 

There  is  no  reason  to  presume  that  the  wedding  at  Cana  was 
of  less  duration  than  the  common  period  of  seven  days ;  and  it 
may  be  assumed,  in  the  absence  of  evidence  to  the  contrary, 
that  Jesus  remained  to  the  end.  It  has  been  surmised  that  it 
was  a  near  connection  of  his  mother  who  was  the  host  upon  this 
occasion.  However  that  may  be,  she  was  actively  engaged  in 
the  management  of  the  feast,  kept  herself  informed  of  the  state 
of  the  provisions,  sought  to  replenish  them  when  they  were 
expended,  and  assumed  familiar  authority  over  the  servants, 
who   appear  to   have    obeyed  her  implicitly. 

^ 


'^ -a 

TNE  HOUSEHOLD    GATE.  141 

Nothing  could  well  be  a  greater  violation  of  the  spirit  of 
his  people,  and  less  worthy  of  him,  than  the  supposition  that 
Jesus  walked  among  the  joyous  guests  with  a  cold  or  disap- 
proving eye,  or  that  he  held  himself  aloof  and  was  wrapped 
m  his  own  meditations.  His  whole  life  shows  that  his  soul 
went  out  in  sympathy  with  the  human  life  around  him.  His 
manners  were  so  agreeable  and  attractive  that  all  classes  of 
men  instinctively  drew  near  to  him.  It  needs  not  that  we 
imagine  him  breaking  forth  into  effulgent  gayety;  but  that  he 
looked  upon  the  happiness  around  him  with  smiles  it  would  be 
wi-ong  to  doubt.  There  are  some  whose  very  smile  carries 
benediction,  and  whose  eye  sheds  perpetual  happiness. 

But  Jesus  was  not  simply  a  genial  guest.  He  had  chosen 
the  occasion  for  the  display  of  his  first  miracle.  It  would  seem 
that  more  guests  had  come  to  the  wedding  than  had  been 
provided  for,  drawn,  perhaps,  from  day  to  day,  in  increasino- 
luuubers,  by  the  presence  of  Jesus.  The  wine  gave  out.  The 
scene  as  recorded  by  John  is  not  without  its  remarkable  fea- 
tures. The  air  of  Mary  in  applying  to  her  son  seems  to  point 
either  to  some  previous  conversation,  or  to  the  knowledge  on 
her  part  that  he  possessed  extraordinary  powers,  and  that  he 
might  be  expected  to  exercise  them. 
"  They  have  no    [more]   wine." 

Jesus  said  unto  her,  "  Woman,  what  have  I  to  do  Avith 
thee  ?   mine  hour  is  not  yet  come." 

Interpreted  according  to  the  impression  which  such  language 
would  make  were  it  employed  thus  abruptly  in  our  day, 
this  reply  must  be  admitted  to  be  not  only  a  refusal  of  his 
mother's  request,  but  a  rebuke  as  well,  and  in  language  hardly 
less  than  harsh.  But  interpreted  through  the  impression  which 
it  produced  upon  his  mother,  it  was  neither  a  refusal  nor  a 
rebuke  ;  for  she  acted  as  one  who  had  asked  and  obtained  a 
favor.  She  turned  at  once  to  the  servants,  with  the  command, 
"Whatsoever  he  saith  unto  you,  do  it."  This  is  not  the  lan- 
guage of  one  who  felt  rebuked,  but  of  one  whose  request 
had  been  granted. 

In  houses  of  any  pretension  it  was  customary  to  make  pro- 
vision for  the  numerous  washings,  both  of  the  person  and  of 
vessels,  which   the    Pharisaic   usages    required.       (Mark    vii.    4.) 

^ -^ 


[& 


-a 


142 


THE  LTFE   OF  JESUS,    THE  CHRIST. 


In  this  instance  there  were  six  large  ■\vater-vessels,  holding  two 
or  three  firkins  apiece.  The  six  "  water-pots  of  stone,"  there- 
fore, had  a  capacity  of  about  one  hundred  and  twenty-six  gal- 
lons.^ 

These  vessels  were  filled  with  water,  and  at  the  will  of  the 
Lord  the  Avater  became  wirie.  When  the  master  of  the  feast 
tasted  it,  it  proved  so  much  superior  to  the  former  supply  as  to 
call  forth  his  commendation.  The  quantity  of  wine  has  excited 
some  criticism  ;  but  it  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  in  Palestine, 
where  light  wines  were  so  generally  a  part  of  the  common 
drink,  four  barrels  of  wine  would  not  seem  a  supply  so  extraor- 
dinary as  it  does  to  people  in  non-wine-growing  countries,  who 
have  been  accustomed  to  see  fiery  wines,  in  small  quantities  and 
at  high  prices.  It  must  also  be  remembered  that  the  company 
was  large,  or  else  the  provision  would  not  have  given  out,  and 
that  it  was  without  doubt  to  be  yet  larger  from  day  to  day,  the 
miracle  itself  tending  to  bring  together  all  the  neighborhood. 
It  is  to  be  considered  also  that  wine,  unlike  bread,  is  not  perish- 
able, but  groAvs  better  with  age ;  so  that,  had  the  quantity  been 
for  greater  than  their  present  need,  it  would  not  be  wasted.  On 
the  other  hand,  there  were  reasons  why  the  supply  should  be 
generous.  The  wine  had  once  given  out.  The  strange  supply 
said  to  every  one,  There  can  be  no  second  foilure.  Abundance 
goes  with  power  wherever  the  Divine  hand  works. 

That  the  wine  created  by  our  Lord  answered  to  the  fermented 
wine  of  the  country  would  never  have  been  doubted,  if  the  exi- 
gencies of  a  modern  and  most  beneficent  reformation  had  not 
created  a  strong  but  unwise   disposition   to  do  away  with   the 

'  The  term  "  firkin,"  in  our  English  version,  is  the  Greek  melrclc.t,  corresponding, 
according  to  Josephus,  to  tlie  Hebrew  balh.  The  Attic  metretes  held  8  gallons  and  7.4 
pints.  The  water-vessels  are  said  in  the  Gospel  to  have  held  between  two  and  three 
firkin*,  or  metretes.  apiei'e,  which  would  be  somewhere  between  1 7  and  2.5  gallons.  Call- 
ing it  21  gallons,  si.x  of  them  would  be  126  gallons.  The  writer  in  Smith's  Bible  Dic- 
tionari/  places  the  quantity  at  110  gallons;  but  Wordsworth  gives  136.  The  lowest 
estimate  which  we  have  seen  puts  it  at  60  gallons,  but  the  weight  of  authority  places  it  as 
in  the  text. 

It  has  been  remarked,  that  the  fact  that  these  vessels  were  exclusively  appropriated 
to  water,  and  never  used  (or  holding  wine,  will  prevent  the  slipping  over  this  miracle 
by  saying  that  wine  was  already  in  the  vessels,  and  that  water  was  only  added  to  it. 
The  quantity,  too,  made  it  impossible  that  it  should  have  been  wrought  in  an  under- 
handed and  collusive  manner.  It  is  the  very  first  of  a  long  series  of  mirac^Ies,  and  one  of 
the  most  indisputable. 


fr- 


-w 


^ -a 

Tf/E  HOUSEHOLD    GATE.  143 

midoubted  example  of  our  Lord.  But  though  the  motive  was 
good,  and  the  effort  most  ingeniously  and  plausibly  carried  out, 
the  result  has  failed  to  satisfy  the  best  scholars ;  and  it  is  the 
almost  universal  conviction  of  those  competent  to  form  a  jud")-- 
raent,  that  our  Lord  did  both  make  and  vise  wines  which  an- 
swer to  the  fermented  wines  of  the  present  day  in  Palestine.^ 
Drunkenness  has  prevailed  in  all  ages  and  in  all  countries, 
but  it  has  been  the  vice  of  particular  races  far  more  than  of 
others.  Li  the  earlier  periods  of  the  world,  all  moral  remedial 
intiuences  were  relatively  Aveak.  With  the  progressive  devel- 
opment of  man  we  have  learned  to  throw  off  evils  by  ways 
which  were  scarcely  practicable  in  early  days.  So  it  has  been 
with  the  sin  of  drunkenness.  Christian  men  proposed,  some  half 
a  century  ago,  voluntarily  to  abstain  from  the  use,  as  a  diet 
or  as  a  luxury,  of  all  that  can  intoxicate.  A  revolution  of  pub- 
lic sentiment  gradually  followed  in  respect  to  the  drinking  usages 
of  society.  This  abstinence  has  been  urged  upon  various 
grounds.  Upon  the  intrinsic  nature  of  all  alcoholic  stimulants 
temperance  men  have  been  divided  in  opinion,  some  taking  the 
extreme  ground  that  alcohol  is  a  poison,  no  less  when  devel- 
oped by  fermentation  and  remaining  in  chemical  combination 
than  when  by  distillation  it  exists  in  separation  and  concentra- 

'  The  editors  of  the  Cnn(jrcgaiional  Reoiew,  No.  54,  pp.  398,  399,  in  a  review  of  Com- 
mnnion  ^Yine  and  Bible  Temperance,  by  Rev.  William  jM.  Thayer,  published  by  the 
National  Temperance   Society,   1869,  use  the  following  language:  — 

"  We  respect  the  zeal  of  Jlr.  Thayer,  and  do  not  question  his  sincerity.  But  we  have 
gone  over  the  arguments  he  has  reproduced  ;  we  have  considered  his  so-called  evidence, 
which  has  so  often  done  duty  in  its  narrow  range ;  we  have  pondered  the  discussions  of 
Lees,  Nott,  Ritchie,  and  Duffield  before  liim  ;  what  is  more,  we  have  gone  over  the  Greek 
and  Hebrew  Scriptures  carefully  for  ourselves ;  have  sifted  the  testimony  of  travellers 
who  knew,  and  those  who  did  not  know ;  have  corresponded  with  missionaries  and  con- 
ferred with  Jewish  Rabbis  on  this  subject;  and  if  tliere  is  anytliing  in  Biblical  literature 
on  which  we  can  speak  confidently,  we  have  no  doubt  that  Dr.  Laurie  is  right  and  that 
Rev.  Jlr.  Thayer  is  wrong."  (Mr.  Thayer's  book  is  an  attempt  to  show  that  there  are 
two  kinds  of  wine  spoken  of  in  the  Bible,  one  of  which  is  intoxicating  and  the  other 
not.) 

'•  In  these  views  we  are  thoroughly  supported.  If  we  mistake  not,  the  Biblical  schol- 
arship of  Andover,  Princeton,  Newton,  Chicago,  and  New  Haven,  as  well  as  Smith's 
Bible  Dictionary  and  Kitto's  Biblical  Ci/cti>p(e(/ia,  is  with  us.  One  of  ihe  most  learned 
and  dev(jut  scholars  of  the  country  recently  said  to  us :  '  None  but  a  third-rate  scholar 
adopts  the  view  that  the  Bible  describes  two  kinds  of  wine.'" 

The  moral  argument  for  temperance  is  valid  and  sufficient.  Doubtful  speculations  in 
philology  ought  not  to  be  introduced  into  a  cause  in  which  the  public  welfare  is  so  deejily 
concerned. 


izt— '- 


4 


C&- 


144  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS.   THE  CHRIST. 

tion,  —  a  statemtMit  in  which  some  physiologists  of  note  have 
concurred.  But  these  views  have  never  won  favor  with  the  o-reat 
body  of  physiologists,  and  the  more  recent  investigators  are  far- 
•ther  from  admitting  them  than  their  predecessors.  Yet  it  is  cer- 
tain that  the  discu.ssions  and  investigations  have  destroyed,  it 
may  be  hoped  forever,  the  extravagant  notions  which  have  pre- 
vailed in  all  countries  as  to  the  benefits  of  wine  and  stron-- 
drinks.  It  is  admitted  that  they  are  always  injurious  to  many 
constitutions,  that  they  are  medically  useful  in  far  less  degrees 
and  in  fewer  instances  than  hitherto  has  been  supposed,  and  that 
to  ordinary  persons  in  good  health  they  are  not  needful,  adding 
neither  any  strength  nor  any  vitality  which  could  not  be  far 
better  attained  by  wholesome  food  and  suitable  rest. 

A  certain  advantage  would  be  gained  in  the  advocacy  of  total 
abstinence  if  it  could  be  shown  that  any  use  of  wine  is  a  sin 
against  one's  own  nature.  But  the  moral  power  of  example  is 
innneasurably  greater  if  those  who  hold  that  wine  and  its  col- 
leagues are  not  unwholesome  when  used  sparingly  sliall  yet,  as  a 
free-will  offering  to  the  weak,  cheerfully  refrain  from  their  use. 
To  relinquish  a  wrong  is  praiseworthy  ;  but  to  jield  up  a  per- 
sonal right  for  benevolent  purposes  is  far  more  admirable. 

Since  the  coming  of  Christ  there  have  not  been  many  spec- 
tacles of  greater  moral  impressiveness  than  the  example  of  mil- 
lions of  Christian  men,  in  both  hemispheres,  cheerfully  and 
enthusiastically  giving  up  the  use  of  intoxicating  drink,  that  l)y 
their  example  they  might  restrain  or  win  those  who  were  in 
danger  of  ruinous  temptation.  If  in  any  age  or  nation  the  c\i\ 
of  intemperance  is  not  general  nor  urgent,  the  entire  abstinence 
from  wine  may  be  wise  for  peculiar  individuals,  but  it  can  have 
no  general  moral  influence,  since  the  conditions  would  be  want- 
ing which  called  for  self-sacrifice. 

Had  Jesus,  living  in  our  time,  beheld  the  Avide  waste  and 
wretchedness  arising  from  inordinate  appetites,  can  any  one 
doubt  on  which  side  he  would  be  found  ?  Was  not  his  whole 
life  a  superlative  giving  up  of  his  own  rights  for  the  benefit  of 
the  fallen  ?  Did  he  not  teach  that  customs,  institutions,  and  laws 
must  yield  to  the  inherent  sacredness  of  man  ?  In  his  own  age 
he  ate  and  drank  as  his  countrymen  did,  judging  it  to  be  safe 
to  do  so.     But  this  is  not  a  condemnation  of  the  course  of  those 

^ 4= 


f ^ 

THE  HOUSEHOLD    GATE.  145 

who,  in  other  lands  and  under  different  circumstances,  wholly 
abstahi  from  wine  and  strong  drink,  for  their  own  good  and  for 
the  good  of  others.  The  same  action  has  a  different  moral 
significance  in  different  periods  and  circumstances.  Jesus  fol- 
lowed the  harmless  custom  of  his  country;  when,  in  another 
age  and  country,  the  same  custom  had  become  mischievous 
would  he  have  allowed  it?  "All  things  are  lawful  unto  me,' 
but  all  things  are  not  expedient."  (1  Cor.  vi.  12.)  "It  is  good 
neither  to  eat  flesh,  nor  to  drink  wine,  nor  anything  whereby 
thy  brother  ....  is  made  weak."     (Rom.  xiv.  21.) 

The  example  of  Christ  beyond  all  question  settles  the  doctrine, 
that,  if  abstinence  from  wine  is  practised,  it  must  be  a  voluntary 
act,  a  cheerful  surrender  of  a  thing  not  necessarily  in  itself 
harmful,  for  the  sake  of  a  true  benevolence  to  others.  But  if  it 
be  an  extreme  to  wrest  the  example  of  Christ  in  fevor  of  the 
total-abstinence  theories  of  modern  society,  it  is  a  yet  more  dan- 
gerous one  to  employ  his  example  as  a  shield  and  justification 
of  the  drinking  usages  which  have  proved  the  greatest  curse 
ever  known  to  man.  Nor  can  we  doubt  that  a  voluntary  absti- 
nence from  all  that  intoxicates,  as  a  diet  or  a  luxury,  by  all 
persons  in  health,  for  moral  reasons,  is  in  accordance  with  the 
very  spirit  of  the  gospel.  The  extraordinary  benefits  which  have 
accompanied  and  followed  the  temperance  reformation  mark  it  as 
one  of  the  great  victories  of  Christianity. 

The  scenes  at  Cana  are  especially  grateful  to  us  as  disclosing 
the  inward  feeling  of  Jesus  respecting  social  life,  as  well  as  the 
peculiar  genius  of  Christianity.  He  began  his  mission  to  others 
by  going  home  to  his  mother.  The  household  was  his  first 
temple  :  the  opening  of  a  wedded  life  engaged  his  first  s;vTnpa- 
thy,  and  the  promotion  of  social  and  domestic  happiness  was 
the  inspiration  of  his  first  miracle.  We  are  especially  struck 
with  his  direct  production  of  enjoyment.  In  marked  contrast 
with  the  spirit  of  many  of  the  reigning  moral  philosophers,  who 
despised  pleasure,  Christ  sought  it  as  a  thing  essentially  good. 
Recognizing  the  truth  that  goodness  and  virtue  are  the  sources 
of  continuous  happiness,  Jesus  taught  that  gladness  is  one  cf 
the  factors  of  virtue,  and  none  the  less  so  because  sorrow  is 
another,  each  of  them  playing  around  the  forms  and  events  of 

• -^ 


[fl- -a 

146  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

practical  life  as  do  light  and  shadow  in  a  picture.  Far  more 
important  than  we  are  apt  to  consider  among  the  secondary 
influences  which  have  maintained  Christianity  itself  in  this 
world,  in  spite  of  the  corruption  of  its  doctrines  and  the  horri- 
ble cruelty  of  its  advocates,  has  been  its  subtile  and  indestructi- 
ble sympathy  both  with  suffering  and  with  joy.  It  sounds  the 
depths  of  the  one,  and  rises  to  the  height  of  the  other.  Its  power 
has  never  lain  in  its  intellectual  elements,  but  in  its  command  of 
that  nature  which  lies  back  of  all  philosophy  or  voluntary  activ- 
ity. It  breathes  the  breath  of  the  Almighty  upon  the  elements  of 
the  soul,  and  again  order  and  life  spring  from  darkness  and  chaos. 

Through  the  household,  as  through  a  gate,  Jesus  entered  upon 
his  ministry  of  love.  EveT  since,  the  Christian  home  has  been 
the  refuge  of  true  religion.  Here  it  has  had  its  purest  altars, 
its  best  teacher.'^,  and  a  life  of  self-denying  love  in  all  gladnes.s, 
„  which  is  constituted  a  perpetual  memori:d  of  the  nourishing  love 
of  God,  and  a  symbol  of  the  great  mystery  of  sacrifice  by  which 
love  perpetually  lays  down  its  life  for  others.  The  religion  of 
the  Synagogue,  of  the  Temple,  and  of  the  Church  would  have 
perished  long  ago  but  for  the  ministry  of  the  household.  It 
was  fit  that  a  ministry  of  love  should  begin  at  home.  It  was 
fit,  too,  that  love  should  develop  joy.  Joyful  love  inspires 
self-denial,  and  keeps  sorrow  wholesome.  Love  civihzes  con- 
science, refines  the  passions,  and  restrains  them.  The  bright 
and  joyful  opening  of  Christ's  ministry  has  been  generally  lost 
sight  of  The  darkness  of  the  last  great  tragedy  has  thrown 
back  its  shadow  upon  the  morning  hour  of  his  life.  His  course 
was  rounded  out,  like  a  perfect  day.  It  began  with  the  calm- 
ness and  dewiness  of  a  morning,  it  came  to  its  noon  with 
fervor  and  labor,  it  ended  in  twilight  and  darkness,  but  rose 
again  without  cloud,  unsetting  and  immortal. 

For  two  years  Jesus  pursued  his  ministry  in  his  own  Galilee, 
among  scenes  fiimiliar  to  his  childhood,  everywhere  performing 
the  most  joyful  work  which  is  possible  to  this  world,  —  that 
of  bringing  men  out  of  trouble,  of  inspiring  hunger  for  truth 
and  righteousness,  of  cheering  the  hopeless  and  desponding, 
besides  works  of  mercy,  almost  without  number,  directed  to 
the  relief  of  the  physical  condition  of  the  poor  and  neglected. 

The  few  disciples  who  had  accompanied  Jesus,  and  were  with 

\^ ^ 


a- ^ ^ 

THE  HOUSEHOLD    GATE.  147 

him  at  the  marriage,  were  drawn  to  him  by  that  miracle  with 
renewed  admiration.  The  bands  that  at  first  held  them  to 
their  Master  must  have  been  slight.  Being  rude,  unlettered 
men,  accustomed  to  live  by  their  senses  only,  they  were  not 
yet  qualified  to  go  without  important  external  adjuvants.  As 
there  was  no  organization,  no  school  or  party,  no  separate  relig- 
ious forms,  but  only  this  one  peasant  prophet,  lately  a  mechanic, 
whose  words  and  bearing  had  greatly  fascinated  them,  it  was  to 
be  expected  that  they  would  soon  despond  and  doubt  if  some- 
thing tangible  were  not  given  them;  and  this  miracle  answered 
their  need.  The  effect  produced  on  their  minds  was  tliought 
worthy  of  record :  "  And  his  disciples  believed  on  him."  Of  all 
the  remaining  crowd  of  guests,  of  the  host  and  his  household,  of 
the  bridal  pair  and  their  gay  companions,  nothing  is  said.  Prob- 
ably the  miracle  was  the  Avonder  of  the  hour,  and  then  passed 
with  the  compliments  and  congratulations  of  the  occasion  into 
the  happy  haze  of  memory,  in  which  particulars  are  lost,  and 
only  a  pleasing  mist  overhangs  the  too  soon  receding  past. 

But  it  seems  certain  that  all  of  the  immediate  household 
of  Jesus  were  brought  for  a  time  under  his  influence.  For 
when,  soon  after  these  events,  he  went  down  to  Capernaum, 
upon  the  northwestern  coast  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  all  went 
with  him,  — "  he,  and  his  mother,  and  his  brethren,  and  his 
disciples."  (John  ii.  12.)  Nothing  is  disclosed  of  the  object 
of  this  visit,  or  of  his  occupation  while  there.  It  is  not  im- 
probable, though  it  is  but  a  sujjposition,  that  he  had  formerly 
plied  his  trade  in  Capernaum,  while  he  was  yet  living  by 
manual  labor.  After  he  was  rejected  and  treated  with  brutal 
ignominy  by  his  own  townsmen  of  Nazareth,  he  made  Caper- 
naum his  home.  It  is  probable  that  his  mother,  sister,  and 
brethren  removed  thither,  and  had  there  a  house  to  which 
Jesus  resorted  as  to  a  home  when  he  was  in  Capernaum.^  It 
is  believed  that  it  was  a  city  of  considerable  population  and 
importance.  It  was  alwa3^s  called  a  "  city,"  had  its  synagogue, 
in  which  Jesus  often  taught,  was  a  Roman  garrison  town  and 
a  customs  station.     It  is  probable  that  it  was  on  the  lake  shore, 

'  Grove  says,  in  Smith's  Bible  Dictionary,  that  the  phrase  in  Mark  ii.  1,  "  in  tlie 
house,"  has  in  the  Greek  the  force  of  "at  home."  So,  in  modern  hingu;iges,  tliu  French 
a  la  maisuii,  the  German  :u  llauxe,  the  Italian  alia  casa,  etc. 

^ ^ 


^ ^ 

148  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,   THE  CHRIST. 

near  the  city,  that  Jesus  saw  and  called  Simon  Peter  and  his 
brother  Andrew,  while  they  were  "  mending  their  nets."  Mat- 
thew—  who  resided  there,  was  a  publican,  and  was  summoned 
by  the  Lord  from  this  odious  occupation  to  discipleship  —  says, 
with  perhaps  a  little  jiride,  speaking  of  Capernaum :  ''  And  he 
entered  into  a  ship,  and  passed  over,  and  came  into  his  own  cUij" 
Here  too  he  healed  the  demoniac  (Mark  i.  21-28),  cured  the 
centurion's  servant  (Luke  vii.  1),  the  paralytic  (Mark  ii.  3),  and 
the  man  with  an  unclean  devil  (Mark  i.  23,  Luke  iv.  33),  and 
raised  Jairus's  daughter  (Mark  v.  22).  It  was  here  that  the 
nobleman's  son  lay  when  in  Cana  the  healing  word  went  forth 
which  restored  him.  It  was  at  Capernaum  that,  when  tribute 
Avas  demanded  of  him,  he  sent  Peter  to  find  in  a  fish's  mouth  the 
piece  of  money  required  (Matt.  xvii.  24).  Here  he  healed 
Peter's  wife's  mother,  who  "lay  sick  of  a  fever";  and  Tristram, 
in  arguing  for  the  site  of  Capernaum  at  the  "  Round  Fountain," 
remarks  that  fevers  are  prevalent  there  to  this  day.  It  was  in 
or  near  this  city  that  many  of  our  Lord's  most  striking  para- 
bles were  uttered,  —  "the  sower,"  "the  tares,"  "the  goodly 
pearls,"  "  the  net  cast  into  the  sea,"  and,  notably,  "  the  Sermon 
on  the  Mount."  It  was  in  Capernaum  that  he  discoursed  on 
fiisting  (Matt.  ix.  10),  and  exposed  the  frivolous  customs  and 
vain  traditions  of  the  Pharisees  (Matt.  xv.  I,  etc.).  Here  also 
occurred  the  remarkable  discussion  recorded  by  John  only  (John 
vi.  22-71),  and  the  discourse  upon  humility,  with  a  "little 
child"  for  the  text  (Mark  ix.  33-50). 

Jerusalem  is  more  intimately  associated  with  the  solemn  close 
of  Christ's  life,  but  no  place  seems  to  have  had  so  much  of  his 
time,  discourse,  and  miracles  as  Capernaum.  And  yet  nowhere 
was  he  less  successful  in  winning  the  people  to  a  spiritual  life, 
or  even  to  any  considerable  attention,  save  the  transient  enthu- 
siasm excited  by  a  miracle.  The  intense  cry  of  sorrow  uttered 
by  Jesus  over  Jerusalem  has  its  counterpart  in  his  righteous 
indignation  over  the  city  by  the  sea :  "  And  thou,  Capernaum, 
which  art  exalted  unto  heaven,  shalt  be  brought  down  to  hell ; 
for  if  the  mighty  works  which  have  been  done  in  thee  had  been 

done  in  Sodom,  it  would  have  remained  until  this  day 

It   shall   be   more  tolerable  for  the  land  of  Sodom,  in  the  day 
of  judgment,  than  for  thee."     (Matt.  xi.  23,  24.)     Even  if  Jesus 

tfr- ^' 


[& 


THE  HOUSEHOLD    GATE. 


149 


-a 


wrought  miracles  at  this  first  visit  to  Capernaum,  immediately 
after  the  wedding  scene  at  Cana,  no  record  or  notice  of  them 
appears  in  the  narrative,  except  that,  afterward,  when  he  was  in 
Nazareth,  he  heard,  doubtless,  the  whisperings  and  taunts  of  his 
impudent  townsmen,  and  replied  :  "  Ye  will  surely  say  unto  me 
this  proverb,  Physician,  heal  thyself :  whatsoever  we  have  heard 
done  in  Capernaum  do  also  here  in  thy  country."  We  may  infer, 
then,  that  the  whole  country  was  full  of  the  rumor  of  his  miracles 
during  his  brief  stay  on  this  his  earliest  visit  to  Capernaum. 

Although  the  woes  denounced  against  "his  o^\ni  city"  were 
designed  to  reach  its  citizens  rather  than  the  streets  and  dwell- 
ings of  the  city  itself,  yet  they  seem  to  have  overflowed  and 
fallen  with  crushing  weight  upon  the  very  stones  of  the  town. 
The  plain  of  Genesareth  and  the  Sea  of  Galilee  are  still  there, 
as  when  Christ  made  them  forailiar  by  his  daily  footsteps  along 
their  border.  But  the  cities,  —  they  are  utterly  perished! 
Among  several  heaps  of  .shapeless  stones  upon  the  northeast 
coast  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  for  hundreds  of  years,  geographers 
and  antiquaries  have  grojied  and  dug  in  vain.  Which  was 
Bethesda,  which  Chorazin  or  Capernaum,  no  one  can  tell  to  this 
day.  Not  Sodom,  under  the  waters  of  the  Dead  Sea,  is  more 
lost  to  sight  than  the  guilty  cities  of  that  other  plain,  Genesareth. 


VIEW    ON    THE    LAKE    OF     GALILEE,     FHOM     THE    SOUTH. 


"And  they  continued  there  not  many  days."  The  Passover 
being  at  hand,  Jesus  went  to  Jerusalem,  and  there  next  we  must 
see  him  and  hear  his  voice. 


t!-^- 


-ff 


[S- -a 


CHAPTER    X. 

THE   FIKST   JUD.EAN   MINISTRY. 

TWELVE  tribes  settled  Palestine  and  a  narrow  strip  of  terri- 
tory east  of  the  river  Jordan.  The  tribal  spirit  was  strong. 
Had  there  been  no  provision  for  keeping  up  a  common  national 
life,  the  Israelites  would  have  been  liable  to  all  the  evils  of 
a  narrow  and  obstinate  provincial  spirit.  There  were  neither 
schools  to  promote  intelligence  nor  books  to  feed  it.  Modern 
nations,  through  the  newspapers  and  swift  tracts,  keep  their 
people  conversant  with  the  same  ideas  at  the  same  time.  Every 
week  sees  the  millions  of  this  continent  thinking  and  talking 
of  the  same  events,  and  discussing  the  same  policies  or  interests. 
But  no  such  provision  for  a  common  popular  education  was 
possible  in  Palestine. 

The  same  result,  however,  was  sought  by  the  great  Lawgiver 
of  the  Desert  by  means  of  a  circulation  of  the  people  them- 
selves. Three  times  in  each  year  every  male  inhabitant  of  the 
land  who  was  not  legally  impure,  or  hindered  by  infirmity  or 
sickness,  was  commanded  to  appear  in  Jerusalem,  and  for  a 
week  to  engage  in  the  solemn  or  joyful  services  of  the  Temple. 
The  great  occasions  were  the  Passover,  the  Pentecost,  and  the 
Feast  of  Tabernacles.  It  is  probable  that  the  first  and  last  of 
these  were  borrowed  from  celebrations  already  existing  among 
other  nations  of  antiquity,  and  primarily  had  refei'ence  to  the 
course  of  nature.  The  seasons  of  seed-sowing  and  harvesting 
would  naturally  furnish  points  for  religious  and  social  festivals. 
We  still  retain  a  vestige  of  these  festivals  in  the  melancholy 
Fast-day  of  New  England  and  in  the  Thanksgiving-day  of  the 
nation ;  so  that  these  simjile  primitive  observances  of  the  vernal 
and  autumnal  positions  of  the  sun  seem  likely  to  outlive  all 
more  elaborate  institutions.  But  if  Moses  borrowed  festivals 
already  in  vogue,  it  is  certain  that  he  gave  new  associations  to 

cfe- -^ 


a- -a 

THE  FIRST  JUD^AN  MINISTRY.  151 

them  by  making  them  commemorate  certain  great  events  in 
the  history  of  the  Israelites. 

The  feast  of  the  Passover  Avas  kept  in  remembrance  of  the 
safety  of  the  Jews  on  that  awful  night  when  Jehovah  smote 
the  firstrborn  of  every  family  in  Egypt,  but  passed  over  the 
dwellings  of  his  own  people,  and  forbade  the  angel  of  death 
to  strike  any  of  their  households.  The  event  itself  marked  an 
epoch  in  Jewish  history.  The  secondary  benefits  of  its  celebra- 
tion, however,  were  primary  in  moral  importance.  To  be  taken 
away  from  home  and  sordid  cares ;  to  be  thrown  into  a  mighty 
stream  of  pilgrims  that  moved  on  from  every  quarter  to  Jerusa- 
lem ;  to  see  one's  own  countrymen  from  every  part  of  Palestine, 
and  with  them  to  offer  the  same  sacrifices,  in  the  same  place, 
by  a  common  ministration ;  to  utter  the  same  psalms,  and  mingle 
in  the  same  festivities,  —  could  not  but  produce  a  civilizing 
influence  far  stronger  than  would  result  from  such  a  course  in 
modern  times,  when  society  has  so  much  better  means  of  edu- 
cating its  people. 

It  was  not  far  from  the  time  of  the  Passover  that  Jesus  went 
to  Capernaum,  and  his  stay  there  was  apparently  shortened  by 
his  desire  to  be  in  Jerusalem  at  this  solemn  festival.  Already 
he  beheld  among  his  countrj'men  preparations  for  the  journey. 
Pilgrims  were  passing  through  Capernaum.  The  great  road 
along  the  western  shore  of  the  Lake  of  Genesai'eth  was  filled 
with  groups  of  men  going  toward  Jerusalem.  Probably  Jesus 
joined  himself  to  the  company;  nor  can  any  one  who  has  no- 
ticed his  cheerful  and  afiectionate  disposition  doubt  that  he 
exerted  upon  his  chailce  companions  that  winning  influence 
which  so  generally  brought  men  about  him  in  admiring  famili- 
arity. 

If  he  pursued  the  route  east  of  the  Jordan,  crossing  again  near 
the  scene  of  his  baptism,  and  ascending  l)y  the  way  of  Jei'icho 
and  Bethany,  he  approached  Jerusalem  from  the  east.  From 
this  quarter  Jerusalem  breaks  upon  the  eye  with  a  beauty  which 
it  has  not  when  seen  from  any  other  direction.  At  this  time, 
too,  he  would  behold  swarming  with  people,  not  the  city  only, 
but  all  its  neighborhood.  Although  it  was  the  custom  of  all  pious 
Jews  to  entertain  their  countrymen  at  the  great  feasts,  yet  no 
city  could  hold  the  numbers.     The  fields  were  white  with  tents. 

^ ^ 


a- -^ 

152  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

The  hills  round  about  were  covered  as  with  an  encamped  aiTny. 
Josephus  says  that  at  the  Passover  A.  D.  65,  there  were  three 
million  Jews  in  attendance,  and  that  in  the  reign  of  Nero  there 
were  on  one  occasion  two  million  seven  hundred  thousand  ;  and 
even  greater  numbers  have  been  recorded.  But  if  the  half  of 
these  were  present,  it  is  plain  that  the  whole  region  around 
Jerusalem,  together  with  near  villages,  must  have  been  over 
full. 

Eight  before  him,  as  he  came  over  the  Mount  of  Olives,  shone 
forth  the  Temple,  whose  foundations  rose  sheer  from  the  pre- 
cipitous rocks  on  the  eastern  side  of  Jerusalem,  and  Avhose  Avhite 
marble  smnmits  glittered  in  the  sun  higher  than  the  highest 
objects  hi  the  city  itself. 

We  should  dismiss  from  our  minds  all  preconceptions  of  the 
appearance  of  the  renowned  Temple,  whether  based  upon  classic 
temples  or  upon  modern  cathedrals  or  churches.  It  resembled 
none  of  them,  but  stood  by  itself,  without  parallel  or  likeness 
either  in  structure  or  method,  as  it  certainly  stood  alone  among 
all  temples  in  its  wonderful  uses.  It  was  not  so  much  a  building 
as  a  system  of  structures ;  one  quadrangle  within  another,  the 
second  standing  upon  higher  ground  than  the  outermost,  and 
the  Temple  proper  upon  a  position  highest  of  all,  and  forming 
the  architectural  climax  of  beauty,  as  it  certainly  stood  highest 
in  moral  sacredness.  The  Temple  of  Solomon  Avas  originally 
built  upon  the  rocky  heights  on  the  east  side  of  Jerusalem,  and 
was  separated  from  the  city  by  a  deep  ravine.  The  heights  not 
affording  sufficient  room  for  all  the  outbuildings,  the  royal  archi- 
tect built  up  a  wall  from  the  valley  below  and  fdled  in  the 
enclosed  space  with  earth.  Other  additions  continued  to  be 
made,  until,  when  Herod  had  finished  the  last  Temple,  —  that 
one  which  shone  out  upon  Jesus  and  the  pilgrims  coming  over 
the  Mount  of  Olives,  —  the  whole  space,  including  the  tower  of 
Antonia,  occupied  about  nineteen  acres.  The  Temple,  then,  was 
not  a  single  building,  like  the  Grecian  temples  or  like  modern 
cathedrals,  but  a  system  of  concentric  enclosures  or  courts, — 
a  kind  of  sacerdotal  citadel,  of  which  the  Temple  proper,  though 
the  most  splendid  part  of  it,  and  lifted  high  above  all  the  rest, 
was  in  space  and  bulk  but  a  small  part.  In  approaching  the 
sacred  mount,  the  Jew  first  entered  the  outer  court,  called  the 

tf 


^^ ^ 

THE  FIRST  JUDJEAN  MINISTRY.  153 

Court  of  the  Gentiles,  not  because  it  was  set  apart  for  them,  but 
because  Gentiles,  rigorously  excluded  from  every  other  portion 
of  the  Temple   enclosures,  were  permitted,  with  all  others,  to 
enter  there.     This  outer  quadrangle,  taken  separately  from  the 
residue  of  the  Temple  system,  was  remarkable  for  its  magnitude, 
its  magnificence,  and  the  variety  of  its  uses.     Although  its  walls 
were  elevated,  yet,  standing  upon  a  lower  level,  they  did  not 
hide  the  interior  courts,  wth  their  walls,  gates,  and  adornments. 
On  the  inner  side  of  the    walls  of  this   outer  court  extended 
porticos  or  cloisters  with  double  rows  of  white  marble  Corinthian 
columns.     The  ceiling  was  flat,  finished  with  cedar,  and  nearly 
forty  feet  in  height  above  the  floor.     But  these  cloisters  were 
quite  eclipsed  by  the  magnificence  of  the  Stoa  Basilica,  or  Royal 
Porch,  on  the  south  side.     It  consisted  of  a  nave  and  two  aisles, 
six  himdred  feet  in  length,  formed  by  four  rows  of  white  marble 
columns,  forty  columns  in  each  row.     The  breadth  of  the  central 
space  was  forty-five  feet,  and  its  height  one  hundred.     The  side 
spaces  were  thirty  feet  wide  and  fifty  in  height.     This  impressive 
building  was  unlike   any  other,  in  that  it  was  wholly  open  on 
the  side  toward  the  Temple ;  it  was  connected  with  the  city  and 
the  king's  palace  by  a  bridge  thrown  across  the  ravine.     This 
vast  arcade  was  a  grand    resort  for  all  persons  of  leisure  who 
repaired  to  the  Temple,  a  kind  of  ecclesiastical  Exchange,  some- 
what analogous  to  the   Grecian  Agora  or  the  Roman   Forum; 
a  place  of  general   resort   for   public,  literary,  or   professional 
business.     Some  parts  of  it  were    appropriated  to    synagogical 
purposes.     It  was  here  that  Jesus  was  accustomed  to  teach"  the 
people  and  to  hold  discourse  with  the   Scribes    and  Pharisees; 
and  here,  too,  the  early  Christians,  who  did  not  consider  them- 
selves as  broken  off  from  the  Jewish  Church  or  debarred  from 
the  rights  and  privileges  of  the  Temple,  used  to  assemble  for 
conversation  and  worship. 

Although  the  cathedral-like  aisles  of  Herod's  Stoa  Basilica,  on 
the  south  side,  were  the  most  magnificent  part  of  the  Court  of 
the  Gentiles,  yet  on  all  its  sides  stood  spacious  colonnades  or 
cloisters,  and  next  within  was  an  open  court  paved  with  stones 
of  various  colors.  Still  farther  inside  of  this  open  court  one 
came  to  a  low  marble  partition,  beautifully  carved,  and  bearing 
the  warning,  in    several   languages,  that  "it  was  death  for  any 


fr 


^ 


154  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

Gentile  to  pass  l)eyoiid  it.  Paul  was  accused  of  having  taken 
Greeks  beyond  it  (Acts  xxi.  28).  By  bearing  in  mind  this 
screen,  we  shall  understand  the  force  and  beauty  of  Paul's  argu- 
ment that  Christ  had  "  broken  down  the  middle  wall  of  partition 
between  us."  ^ 

A  few  yards  beyond  this  screen  of  exclusion,  one  ascended 
by  a  series  of  steps  to  the  next  enclosure  or  quadrangle,  which 
was  twenty-two  feet  above  the  level  of  the  Court  of  the  Gentiles. 
This  court  was  again  subdivided  into  the  Court  of  the  Israelites 
and  the  Court  of  the  Women.  The  Temple  stood  in  still  another 
and  a  higher  portion  of  this  court,  and  was  approached  through 
a  gate  upon  which  had  been  lavished  every  element  of  archi- 
tectural beauty ;  and  it  was  this  gate,  probably,  which  was  called 
Beautiful  (Acts  iii.  2).  The  walls  and  the  gateways  were  so  built 
as  to  furnish  numerous  apartments  for  the  officers  of  the  Temple, 
for  the  priests  and  their  retinue.  In  the  Court  of  the  Israelites 
and  the  Court  of  the  Women  were  the  various  tables  and  utensils 
in  use  for  sacrificial  purposes.  Within  the  Gate  Beautiful  stood 
the  altar,  and  beyond  that  the  Temple  proper,  in  the  form  of  an 
inverted  T  (J.),  comprising  a  portico,  the  sanctuary,  and  the 
Holy  of  Holies.  The  main  portions  of  the  Temple,  it  is  believed, 
were  of  the  same  dimensions  and  upon  the  very  foundations 
of  Solomon's  Temple.  But  it  is  supposed  that,  while  the  internal 
space  remained  the  same,  the  external  proportions  were  much 
increased,  and  that  the  wings  of  the  facade  were  extended,  so 
that  the  length  of  the  Temple  and  the  width  of  its  front  or  fa9ade 
were  each  one  hundred  feet. 

A  general  knowledge  of  the  structure  of  the  Temple  is  indis- 
pensable to  those  who  would  study  either  the  history  of  Jesus 

'  "  But  now,  in  Christ  Jesus,  ye,  who  sometimes  were  far  off,  are  made  nigh  by  the  blood 
of  Christ.  For  he  is  our  peace,  wlio  hath  made  both  one,  and  hath  broken  down  the 
middle  wall  of  partition  between  us ;  having  abolished  in  his  flesh  the  enmity,  even  the 
law  of  commandments  contained  in  ordinances :  for  to  make  in  himself  of  twain  one  new 
man,  so  making  peace ;  and  that  he  might  reconcile  both  unto  God  in  one  body  by  the 
cross,  having  slain  the  enmity  thereby :  and  came  and  preached  peace  to  you  which  were 
afar  off  and  to  them  that  were  nigh.  For  through  him  we  both  have  access  by  one  Spirit 
unto  the  Father.  Now  therefore  ye  are  no  more  strangers  and  foreigners,  but  fellow- 
citizens  with  the  saints,  and  of  the  household  of  God ;  and  arc  built  upon  the  foundation 
of  the  apostles  and  prophets,  Jesus  Christ  himself  being  the  chief  corner-stone ;  in  whom 
all  the  building,  fitly  framed  together,  groweth  unto  an  holy  temple  in  the  Lord  :  in 
whom  ye  also  are  builded  together,  for  an  habitation  of  God  through  the  Spirit."  (Eph. 
ii.  13-22.) 

^ ■ -# 


C&- 


-a 


I   s  l_  i    ° 

^1 


^^_^ NORTH  CLOfSTER 


ROYAL  CLOISTGR 


I  e-g  B-BB-B-irnB  iTM  a  a  b  en 


kAAAUAUAAUfi^UA 


iiniffriin 


SOUTH. 

PL.\_N  A^D  SECTION  OF  THE  TEMPLE. 


# 


^ ^ — ■ -a 

Tun  FIRST  JUD^AN  MINISTRY.  155 

or  that  of  his  countrymen.  One  may  know  far  more  of  Athens, 
her  Acropolis  left  out,  of  Rome  without  its  Forum  or  Capitol, 
than  of  Jerusalem  without  its  Temple.  Without  that  the  city 
would  have  hardly  any  significance  left.  The  Temple  was  at 
once  the  brain  and  the  heart  of  the  nation.  It  was  the  university 
and  chief  house  of  the  learned  men  and  priests,  and  gave  to 
Palestine  a  centre  of  orthodoxy.  Through  the  Temple  circulated 
the  whole  people  in  its  great  annual  visitations,  and  then,  like 
blood  that  has  been  aerated,  it  carried  back  new  life  to  every 
extremity  of  the  land. 

With  what  feelings  Jesus  looked  upon  the  Temple  as  he  drew 
near  to  Jerusalem  can  only  be  surmised.  It  might  seem  as 
though  his  Divine  soul  would  perceive  little  of  use  in  the  cum- 
brous ritual  which  he  had  come  to  abrogate.  As  he  looked 
over  from  the  Mount  of  OHves  upon  the  encircling  walls  and 
battlements,  the  ascending  rows  of  towex's,  arches,  and  gateways, 
and  the  pure  white  Temple  glittering  high  in  the  air  above  all, 
could  he  fail  to  contrast  the  outward  beauty  with  the  mterior 
desecration  ?  But  it  does  not  follow  on  that  account  that  he  felt 
little  interest.  On  another  occasion,  when  he  looked  from  the 
same  place  over  upon  the  whole  city  of  Jerusalem,  whose  long 
and  wearisome  criminal  history  rose  before  his  mind,  he  did  not 
any  the  less  experience  a  profound  affection  for  the  city,  even 
while  pronouncing  its  doom.  In  like  manner  he  might  have 
looked  upon  the  Temple,  and,  though  conscious  of  its  gross  un- 
spirituality,  he  might  have  yet  experienced  a  profound  sympathy 
for  it,  considered  in  its  whole  past  history,  in  its  intent,  and  as 
the  focus  to  which  so  many  noble  hearts  had  through  ages  con- 
verged. At  any  rate,  he  is  soon  found  within  it,  and  his  first 
recorded  act  of  authority  took  place  in  the  Temple. 

It  seems  to  us  very  strange  that  money-brokers,  cattle,  sheep, 
and  doves  should  be  found  in  the  Temple,  and  that  trafficking 
should  go  on  in  that  sacred  place,  if  by  this  term  we  bring  before 
our  minds  the  true  and  innermost  Temple.  But  these  trans- 
actions took  place  in  the  lower  and  outer  court,  and  probably 
at  the  western  portion  of  the  Court  of  the  Gentiles. 

Thousands  of  Jews  must  have  come  every  year  to  Jerusalem 
without  being  in  circumstances  to  bring  with  them  the  appropri- 
ate offerings.     For   their  convenience,  doves,  sheep,  and   oxen 

^ ^ 


t& 


156 


THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,    THE  CHRIST. 


were  provided  and  held  for  sale,  at  first,  prol^ably,  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  Temple  enclosure.  Little  by  little  they  intruded  upon  the 
space  within,  until  they  made  it  their  head-quarters  without 
rebuke. 


■a 


SELLISG    DclVES    IN   THE   TEMI'I.E. 


This  custom  was  less  repulsive,  probably,  to  the  Jews  than  it 
would  be  to  us,  because  the  whole  Temple  was  used  in  a  manner 
that  would  utterly  shock  the  sensibility  of  men  educated  in 
Christian  churches.  Thousands  and  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
sheep,  every  Passover,  as  well  as  at  every  Pentecost  and  every 
Feast  of  Tabernacles,  Avere  borne  into  the  Temple  and  carried 
or  driven  into  the  Court  of  the  Priests,  and  there  slain,  the  blood 
being  caught  by  the  priests  in  bowls  and  dashed  upon  the  altar. 
Horn-  after  hour,  the  whole  day  long,  the  sf)ectacle  continued. 
The  secret  channels  down  through  the  rocks,  toward  the  king's 
garden,  gurgled  with  blood.  It  was  blood,  blood,  blood ;  nor  can 
a  modern  man  imagine  how  it  could  be  other  than  intolerably 
shocking.  We  cannot  conceive  how  even  familiarity  would  abate 
the  repulsiveness  of  an  altar  incessantly  Mowing  with  blood,  and 
of  pavements  and  walls  drijjping  -with  the  same. 


^ 


-ff 


a- ^ 

THE  FIRST  JUD^AN  MINISTRY.  I57 

But  the  tolerant  custom  of  herding  cattle  and  sheep  in  the 
outer  court  of  the  Temple,  the  place  where  the  people  gathered 
and  talked,  where  discussions  and  discourses  went  on,  had  doubt- 
less become  so  much  abused  that  portions  of  the  court  had  be- 
come almost  a  corral,  or  cattle-yard. 

In  this  court,  too,  brokers  had  congregated  to  exchange  foreign 
coin  for  the  shekel  of  the  sanctuary,  in  which  only  could  the  Jew 
pay  the  Temple  tax.  The  images  on  imperial  coins  savored  of 
idolatry.  The  devout  Jew,  drawing  near  to  the  Temple,  filled 
with  pious  associations,  would  find  his  meditations  rudely  broken 
in  upon  by  lowing  herds  and  bleating  flocks,  by  the  hagglino-  of 
money-changers  and  the  chink  of  their  coin.  If,  as  is  suspected, 
the  traffic  was  ^vinked  at  by  the  Temple  familiars  because  they 
were  participants  of  the  profits,  it  was  all  the  more  improper. 
Many  decorous  Jews  would  be  scandahzed  at  the  growino-  evil, 
but  what  could  they  do  ? 

On  the  first  day  of  the  Passover,  or  perhaps  on  the  day  before, 
when  the  herds  of  cattle  were  likely  to  be  most  in  the  way,  the 
nuisance  was  suddenly  abated.  Without  parley  or  leave  asked 
Jesus  drove  out  the  motley  herd.  It  must  have  been  one  of 
those  supreme  moments,  which  came  so  often  to  him  afterwards, 
Avhen  no  one  could  stand  before  his  gaze.  Go  hence !  and  with 
a  whip  of  small  cords  he  drove  out  the  lowing  and  bleating 
creatures,  and  their  owners  hastened  after  them ;  no  one  seemed 
to  resist  him.  He  overthrew  the  money-changers'  tables,  and 
sent  the  coin  ringing  over  the  marble  pavements.  "Take  these 
things  hence !  Make  not  my  Father's  house  an  house  of  mer- 
chandise ! " 

The  only  comment  made  by  the  Evangelist  John  is  in  these 
words  r  "  And  his  disciples  remembered  that  it  was  written,  The 
zeal  of  thy  house  hath  eaten  me  up."  But  why  should  this 
passage  have  occurred  to  them,  unless  his  manner  had  been  full 
of  energy,  and  his  voice  so  terrible  that  the  avaricious  hucksters, 
though  assailed  in  privileges  permitted  by  the  Temple  officers, 
dared  not  resist  ?  The  fact  itself,  and  the  commentary  which  the 
Evangehst  adds,  make  it  plain  that  there  was  in  the  coimtenance 
of  Jesus,  and  in  his  manner,  that  which  men  did  not  choose  to 
confront. 

Nothing  can  better  show  how  superior  Christ  was  to  the  nar- 


t 


■tf 


158  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

row  prejudices  of  the  Jews  against  all  foreign  people.  A  heathen 
was  an  abomination.  The  only  part  of  the  Temple  to  which 
the  Gentile  could  approach  was  this  court.  Jews  did  not  care 
that  cattle  and  money-brokers  turned  the  court  into  a  vast  and 
noisy  bazaar  or  market ;  they  could  pass  on,  and  in  the  higher 
interior  courts  be  free  from  all  molestation.  It  was  ovAj  the 
Gentile  that  suffered  frona  this  perversion  of  the  great  outer 
court  of  the  Temple.  The  cleansing  of  this  place  was  not  only 
an  act  of  humanity  to  the  Gentiles,  but  may  be  regarded  as  the 
sign  and  precursor  of  the  mercy  of  Christ  to  the  whole  world, 
Jew  or  Gentile. 

Even  if  the  rulers  of  the  Tcm2:)le  were  not  spectators  of  this 
scene,  the  story  must  have  soon  come  to  their  ears.  There  seems 
to  have  been  no  anger  excited.  Among  the  Jews  there  was 
singular  toleration  for  any  one  upon  whom  came  "the  Spirit 
of  the  Lord."  Besides,  deeper  than  every  other  feeling,  sti'onger 
even  than  avarice,  ambition,  and  pride,  oi-  perhaps  as  the  fullest 
expression  of  them  all,  was  the  longing  for  that  Messiah  who 
was  to  end  their  national  degradation,  exalt  them  to  supremacy, 
and  avenge  upon  the  heathen  double  for  all  their  sufterings.  In 
spite  of  all  their  worldliness,  or  rather  a  remarkable  feature  of  it, 
was  this  undying  watchfulness  for  the  Divine  interposition  in 
their  behalf  And  when  any  person  of  remarkable  gifts  ap- 
peared, as  in  the  case  of  John  the  Baptist,  and  in  the  earlier 
periods  of  Jesus's  ministry,  all  eyes  were  turned  upon  him,  and 
in  anxious  suspense  they  waited  for  evidence  that  he  was  the 
promised  Deliverer.  There  is  something  inexjjressibly  sad  in 
the  sight  of  a  proud  nation  resenting  an  oppression  which  it  could 
not  resist,  and  carrying  an  unextinguished  longing,  night  and 
day,  for  a  promised  champion,  who  was,  in  the  sense  expected, 
never  to  come. 

It  was  not  in  displeasiu'e,  but  rather  in  eager  expectancy, 
that  the  officers  put  the  question,  "  What  sign  showest  thou 
unto  us,  seeing  thou  doest  such  things  ? "  It  was  only  another 
form  of  saying,  as  they  did  afterwards,  "  If  thou  be  the  Christ, 
tell  us  plainly."  Jesus  had  taken  things  into  his  own  hands, 
had  revoked  the  permission  which  they  had  given  to  the  traffick- 
ers, and  for  the  moment  he  was  the  one  person  in  supreme  au- 
thority there.     That  he  was  not  seized,  ejected  from  the  Temjale, 

^ ^ 


[&- -a 

THE  FIRST  JUD.EAN  MINISTRY.  159 

or  even  slain,  shows  that  the  rulers  hoped  something  from  this 
new-comer  who  possessed  such  power  of  command. 

Jesus  replied,  "  Destroy  this  temple,  and  in  three  days  I  will 
raise  it  up."  The  Jews,  taking  his  answer  literally,  Avere  stum- 
bled at  the  boast  implied.  "  Forty  and  six  years  was  this  Temple 
in  building,  and  wilt  thou  rear  it  up  in  three  days?"  The  Evan- 
gelist John  adds,  "  But  he  spake  of  the  temple  of  his  body." 

It  is  not  strange  that  he  should  identify  himself  with  the  Tem- 
ple, for  Jesus  bore  the  same  relation  to  the  new  dispensation 
which  the  Temple  did  to  the  old.  What  the  visible  altar  and 
sanctuary  were  to  ritual  worship,  that  his  heart  was  to  spiritual 
worship.  It  is  not  the  only  instance  in  which  Christ  suggests 
a  comparison  between  himself  and  the  Temple.  When  defending 
himself  against  the  charge  of  Sabbath-breaking,  he  refers  to 
the  blamelessness  of  the  jjriests,  though  working  on  the  Sabbath 
in  the  Temple.  "  But  I  say  unto  you,  that  in  this  place  is  one 
greater  than  the  Temple."     (Matt.  xii.  6.) 

There  has  been  much  jierplexity  among  commentators  at  this 
reply,  which  on  its  face  meant  one  thing,  and  really  meant 
another.  But  Jesus  did  not  intend  to  have  them  penetrate  the 
hidden  meaning.  Then  why  answer  at  all  ?  The  mood  in  which 
the  officers  evidently  wei"e  would  not  brook  a  defiant  silence. 
The  Jews  were  fanatically  inflammable  in  all  matters  relating  to 
the  Temple.  Without  prudence  or  calculation  of  the  result,  they 
would  throw  themselves  headlong  upon  Eoman  soldiers,  or  upon 
any  others,  who  seemed  to  put  contempt  upon  the  holy  place  ; 
they  wei'e  like  hornets,  who,  when  their  nest  is  touched,  dash 
w'ith  fiery  courage  upon  the  intruder,  and  that  without  regard 
to  the  certainty  of  their  own  destruction.  The  answer  of  Jesus, 
while  it  could  not  have  seemed  disrespectful,  must  have  left 
them  in  suspense  as  to  whether  he  was  boasting,  or  whether 
he  was  claiming  Divine  jiower.  It  had  the  effect  designed,  at 
any  rate.  The  great  liberty  which  Jesus  had  taken  was  allowed 
to  pass  without  rebuke  or  violence,  and  he  had  avoided  a  public 
declaration  of  his  Messiahship,  which  at  that  period  would  have 
been  imprudent,  whether  the  rulers  accepted  or  rejected  him. 
His  time  had  not  yet  come. 

But  was  this  baffling  reply  such  a  one  as  we  should  expect 
from  a  sincere  and  frank  nature  ?     The  answer  to  this  question 

^ ^ 


a- ^ 

160  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

will  require  us  to  consider  for  a  moment  the  method  of  discourse 
which  Christ  adopted.  No  one  ever  taught  with  more  trans- 
parent simplicity  and  directness.  Much  of  his  teaching  reads 
like  the  Book  of  Proverbs,  of  which  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  as 
given  by  Matthew,  is  a  good  instance.  At  times  he  employed 
an  argumentative  or  logical  style,  as  in  the  discussions  with  the 
Jews  recoi'ded  by  John.  He  likewise  taught  by  pictures ;  for 
such  are  his  exquisite  little  fables,  as  the  Greeks  would  have 
called  them,  and  which  we  style  parables.  But  Jesus  explicitly 
declared  to  his  disciples,  that,  for  wise  purposes,  he  often  em- 
ployed an  outward  form  to  hide  within  it  a  meaning  which  they 
were  not  yet  pi-epared  to  accept.  The  outward  form,  therefore, 
acted  the  part  of  the  lobes  of  a  seed.  They  first  preserve  the 
germ  till  planting  time,  and  then  supply  its  food  until  it  has 
roots  of  its  own.  We  hear  Jesus  explicitly  saying  (Matt.  xiii. 
]0-lG)  that  he  taught  in  unintelligible  forms. 

But  we  are  to  consider  that  among  the  Orientals,  and  especially 
among  the  Jews,  this  was  considered  as  the  highest  form  of 
instruction.  It  was  the  delight  of  philosophy  to  express  itself  in 
enigmas,  paradoxes,  parables,  and  even  in  riddles.  Friendly 
arguments  were  not  so  much  an  array  of  facts  and  reasonings, 
as  the  proposing  and  the  interpreting  of  dark  sayings.  In 
Proverbs  the  philosopher  is  thus  described :  ''  A  wise  man  will 
hear,  and  will  increase  learning ;  and  a  man  of  understanding 
shall  attain  unto  wise  counsels  :  to  understand  a  proverb,  and 
the  interpretation  ;  the  words  of  the  wise,  and  their  dark  say- 
ings." (Prov.  i.  5,  6.)  A  "dark  saying"  was  simply  a  truth 
locked  up  in  a  figure,  hidden  within  a  parable,  in  such  a  way 
as  to  stir  the  imagination  and  provoke  the  reason  to  search  it 
out.  The  real  design  was  not  to  conceal  the  truth,  but,  by 
exciting  curiosity,  to  put  men  upon  the  search  for  it.  (Ps.  xlix. 
4  ;  Dan.  viii.  23.)  Such  a  method  of  instruction  easily  degener- 
ated into  a  mere  contest  of  puzzles  and  riddles.  But  we  see 
it  in  its  noblest  form  in  tlie  teaching  of  Jesus,  where,  though 
often  used  with  wonderful  skill  to  foil  the  craft  and  malice  of  his 
antagonists,  it  never  ftiiled  to  carry  witliin  it  some  profound 
moral  truth. 

The  crucifixion  of  Christ  wae  to  be  the  first  step  in  the  de- 
struction of  the  Temple.     The  blow  aimed  at  Christ  would  shatter 


tfi- 

THE  FIRST  JUD^AN  MINISTRY.  161 

the  altar.  All  this  lay  before  the  mind  of  Jesus.  His  reply  was 
a  rebound  of  thought  from  the  physical  and  the  present  to  the 
invisible  and  spiritual.  It  was  meant  neither  as  an  explanation 
nor  as  a  prophecy;  it  was  rather  a  soliloquy:  "Destroy  this 
Temple,  and  in  three  days  I  will  raise  it  again."  Enigmatical 
to  them  and  puzzling  to  commentators  ever  since,  it  would 
seem  quite  natural  to  one  who  looked  at  the  spiritual  as  well  as 
the  temporal  relations  of  all  events  and  physical  facts.  He  did 
not  mean  to  speak  definitely,  either  of  his  own  death  or  of  the 
end  of  the  Levitical  system. 

This  answer  conforms  to  Christ's  habit  of  speaking,  not  to  the 
thing  suggesting,  but  to  the  ulterior  truths  suggested.  A  note 
being  sounded,  he  took  its  octave.  Witness  the  scene  (John  xii. 
20-26)  where  his  disciples  tell  him  that  certain  Greeks  desire 
to  see  him.  He  replies :  "The  hour  is  come  that  the  Son  of  Man 
should  be  glorified.  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you.  Except  a 
corn  of  wheat  faU  into  the  ground  and  die,  it  abideth  alone; 
but  if  it  die,  it  bringeth  forth  much  fruit."  There  never  was  a 
greater  enthusiasm  for  him  among  the  whole  community  than  -It 
that  moment.  Even  foreigners  were  infected.  When  told  of  this, 
he  answers  not  to  the  outside  fact,  but  to  the  inward  vision. 

In  this  light,  his  reply  to  the  rulers  in  the  Temple,  if  obscure 
to  them,  confonns  to  his  habits  of  thought  and  speech.  As  they 
understood  his  reply,  it  must  have  seemed  extravagant.  No 
wonder  they  said,  "Forty  and  six  years  was  this  Temple  in  build- 
ing, and  wilt  thou  rear  it  up  in  three  days  ?  "  The  Temple  prop- 
er had  been  completed  in  a  year  and  a  half  after  it  was  begun. 
But  portions  of  the  courts  and  various  adjuncts  had  been  fovtj- 
six  years  in  hand,  and,  indeed,  the  work  was  still  going  on. 

During  this  Passover,  Jesus  became  the  centre  of  attraction. 
He  both  wrought  miracles  and  taught,  and  no  inconsiderable 
number  were  disposed  to  join  him.  But  he  saw  that  it  was  only 
an  outward  excitement,  and  had  no  root  in  moral  conviction. 
He  would  not,  therefore,  draw  them  out,  nor  put  himself  at 
their  head.  There  is  evidence  that  his  ministry  produced  an 
effect  among  the  most  thoughtful  of  the  Pharisees.  It  was 
doubtless  a  matter  of  conference  in  the  Sanhedrim  and  of  con- 
versation among  such  Jews  as  had  deep  spiritual  longings.  In- 
deed, as  soon  as  the  night  extricated  Jesus  from  the  crowd,  and 


■a 


-J 


a- -a 

1G2  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

gave  biiii  leisure  for  extended  conversation,  one  of  the  noblest 
among  the  Pharisees,  a  ruler  too,  came  to  him. 

That  one  luckless  phrase,  "  by  night,"  has  sent  down  to  us 
the  name  of  an  honest  and  courageous  Jew  as  one  too  timid 
to  come  openly,  and  who  therefore  sought  to  steal  an  inter- 
view under  the  cover  of  darkness,  so  as  to  avoid  responsibility. 
There  is  not  in  the  history  of  Nicodemus  a  single  fact  to  justify 
such  an  imputation  on  his  moral  courage,  except  the  single  phrase 
that  he  came  "  by  night."  He  appears  but  three  times  in  the 
history,  and  every  one  of  these  occasions  shows  a  calm,  earnest, 
thoughtful  man,  undemonstrative,  but  firm  and  courageous. 

Is  it  the  part  of  timidity  that  he,  —  though  an  eminent  man, 
a  member  of  the  Sanhedrim,  a  Pharisee,  with  a  reputation  to 
sustain,  —  after  witnessing  Christ's  Avorks  and  listening  to  his 
teaching,  came  before  all  others  the  first  to  seek  instruction  ? 
The  night  was  chosen  simply  because  then  Jesus  was  no  longer 
amid  an  excited  multitude.  The  crowd  was  gone.  He  was  free 
for  protracted  conference.  When  would  a  distressed  soul,  in 
our  day,  seek  advice,  —  when  the  preacher  was  speaking  in  the 
full  congregation,  or  afterward,  when  he  could  be  found  at  home, 
and  at  leisure  to  consider  a  single  case  ?  Nicodemus  came  in 
the  true  hour  for  converse.  He  came  by  night ;  but  he  was 
the  only  one  of  all  his  fellows  that  came  at  all. 

The  next  scene  in  which  Nicodemus  appears  is  near  the  close 
of  Christ's  ministry.  The  rulers  had  become  desperate.  His 
death  was  resolved  upon.  It  was  now  only  a  matter  of  hesita- 
tion how  to  compass  it.  In  full  council  the  Sanhedrim  sat, 
Avaiting  for  Jesus  to  be  arrested  and  brought  Ijefore  them.  The 
officers  brought  word  that  they  were  overawed  by  his  bearing 
and  his  teaching.  The  Pharisees  were  enraged.  They  inquired 
whether  any  of  their  own  party  were  going  over  to  him.  They 
cursed  the  common  people  as  stupid  and  ignorant,  and  they 
reviled  the  delinquent  otticers.  Was  this  the  place  and  time 
in  which  a  timid  man  would  confront  the  whole  official  power 
of  his  people  ?  And  yet  one  man  in  that  council  bravely  spoke 
out,  —  "  Doth  our  law  judge  any  man  before  it  hear  huu,  and 
know  what  he  doeth?"     That  man  was  Nicodemus. 

He  appears  yet  once  more.  It  was  after  the  crucifixion.  All 
hope  was  over.     The  disciples  were  overawed,  confounded,  and 

^ ■ s 


[&— 

THE  FIRST  JUD^AN  MINISTRY.  163 

scattered.  There  was  not  a  man  left  in  Jerusalem  who  would 
now  think  it  prudent  to  identify  himself  with  a  lost  cause ;  it 
could  help  nothing  and  would  compromise  the  actor.  Joseph 
of  Arimathea  begged  of  Pilate  the  body  of  Jesus  for  honorable 
burial.  "And  there  came  also  Nicodemus  (which  at  the  first 
came  to  Jesus  by  night),  and  brought  a  mixture  of  myrrh  and 
aloes,  abmit  an  hundred  pound  weight."  Of  Joseph,  the  Evan- 
gelist John  says  expressly  that  he  was  "a  disciple  of  Jesus, 
but  secretly,  for  fear  of  the  Jews."  (John  xix.  38,  30.)  But 
not  an  intimation  of  this  kind  is  made  against  Nicodemus.  The 
phrase  is  only,  "  he  that  came  to  Jesus  by  night " ;  and  again, 
"  which  at  the  first  came  to  Jesus  by  night." 

Just  such  men  as  Peter  and  Nicodemus  we  have  around  us 
now.  The  one  was  eager  and  overflowing,  the  other  calm  and 
undemonstrative.  In  Peter,  impulse  was  strongest;  in  Nicode- 
mus, reflection.  Peter,  rash  and  headstrong,  was  confused  by 
real  peril;  Nicodemus,  cautious  at  the  beginning,  grew  firmer 
and  bolder  as  difficulties  developed  danger. 

This  interview  between  Jesus  and  Nicodemus  is  profoundly 
interesting  from  the  revelation  which  it  gives  of  the  character 
of  the  better  men  among  the  Pharisees,  and  also  of  the  spiritual 
condition  of  the  sincere  and  devout  Jews.  It  is  besides  re- 
markable for  the  first  disclosure  made  of  the  distinctive  doc- 
trines of  the  new  life  then  about  to  dawn.  Nicodemus  saluted 
Christ  as  if  he  were  a  Jewish  rabbi,  and  confessed  the  eflfect 
wrought  upon  his  mind  by  the  sight  of  his  miracles,  but  asked 
no  questions.  Jesus,  striking  at  once  to  the  heart  of  the  matter, 
answered  not  his  words  nor  even  his  thoughts,  but  his  uncon- 
scious spiritual  needs:  "Except. a  man  be  born  again,  he  cannot 
see  the  kingdom  of  God."  That  such  a  man  as  Nicodemus 
should  take  this  as  a  literal  physical  re-birth  gives  surprising 
evidence  of  the  externality  of  his  religious  knowledge.  He 
had  not  the  famtest  sense  of  the  diflerence  between  external 
righteousness  and  internal  holiness.  He  did  not  even  under- 
stand enough  of  spirituality  to  accept  the  figure  employed  bv 
Christ;  and  he  needed,  like  a  child,  to  have  it  explained  that 
not  a  physical,  but  a  moi-al,  re-birth  w\as  meant. 

'•That  which  is  borx  of  the  flesh  is  flfsh; 
That  which  is  born  of  the  Spirit  is  spirit  " 

* ^ ^ 


1(3-1  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

This  is  the  root.  In  these  words  Jesus  gave  the  fundamental 
philosophy  of  religion.  Man  is  born  into  the  material  world 
with  all  those  powers  wliioh  are  required  for  his  physical  and 
social  well-being,  but  within  him  lie  dormant  the  germs  of  a 
Divine  nature.  These  can  be  developed  only  by  the  Spirit  of 
God ;  but  when  evolved  they  change  the  whole  nature,  give  to 
man  a  new  horizon,  new  force,  scope,  and  vision.  He  will  live 
thenceforth  by  a  different  class  of  faculties.  Before,  he  lived 
by  the  forces  which  nature  developed  through  the  senses.  He 
was  mainly  a  physical  being.  Afterwards,  he  Avill  live  through 
the  forces  developed  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  —  forces  whose  ru- 
diments existed  before,  but  whose  growth  and  full  power  de- 
mand the  energy  and  fire  of  the  Divine  soul.  Like  an  exotic 
plant  in  a  temperate  zone,  the  soul  without  God  bears  only 
leaves.  For  blossoms  and  fruit  there  must  be  tropical  heat  and 
light,  that  we  may  "  bring  forth  fruit  unto  God." 

Thus,  in  his  very  first  recorded  conversation,  as  clearly  as 
at  the  end  of  his  ministry,  Jesus  set  forth  the  new  era  to  which 
the  soul  of  man  was  approaching.  The  conversation  as  record- 
ed has  an  unconscious  dramatic  element.  An  eminent  Phari- 
see, whose  life  has  been  spent  in  attaining  perfection,  and 
who,  in  his  own  opinion,  has  almost  reached  it,  but  has  not 
found  satisfaction  of  his  heart-hunger,  is  told  that  his  whole 
life-work  has  been  in  a  wrong  direction,  —  he  must  begin  anew. 
Like  one  who  has  gone  upon  a  wrong  road,  he  has  been  car- 
ried by  every  step  aAvay  from  his  goal.  He  has  sought  moral 
perfectness  by  rigorous  discipline  in  external  things.  He  must 
reverse  the  process,  and  reinforce  the  soul. 

In  the  order  of  time,  man  develops  from  the  sensuous  to- 
wards the  spiritual.  But  in  the  order  of  power  and  of  self- 
government,  that  which  is  last  must  become  first.  The  spirit 
must  be  formed  and  filled  by  the  Divine  soul.  It  is  then  in- 
spired. A  new  force  is  developed.  A  conflict  ensues.  The 
spirit  striveth  against  the  flesh,  and  the  flesh  lusteth  against 
the  spirit.  But  the  whole  moral  nature  is  I'einvigorated.  It 
has  become  open  and  sensitive  to  truths  and  influences  which 
before  it  did  not  perceive  nor  feel. 

Of  course  the  whole  conversation  of  the  two  is  not  recorded. 
Hours   would    not  suffice,  when    once   the    soul  had  found   its 


[fl- — -Q] 

THE  FIRST  JUD^AN  MINISTRY.  165 

Master,  to  bring  him  into  all  the  dark  and  troubled  places 
within,  where  there  had  been  sorrow  and  trouble  of  soul.  The 
stars  still  rose  and  set ;  but  Nicodemus  had  found  his  new 
heaven  and  the  guiding  star  of  his  future  life.  He  marvelled. 
Nor  did  his  wonder  cease  as  his  Master,  step  by  step,  unfolded 
the  new  life  and  the  supremacy  of  the  spiritual  over  the  carnal. 
As  Jesus  with  indistinct  lines  sketched  his  own  history,  his 
death,  the  life-giving  power  of  faith  in  him,  it  may  be  sup- 
posed that  his  listener  heard  only,  but  did  not  understand. 

We  are  concerned  with  this  earliest  discourse  of  Jesus,  be- 
cause its  philosophy  underlies  the  whole  question  of  religion. 
It  has  two  astonishing  originalities.  Men  may  stop  suddenly 
in  a  career  of  evil,  and  be  born  again.  The  Ethiopian  ma// 
change  his  skin,  and  the  leopard  his  spots !  There  is  a  power 
before  which  even  habit  cannot  stand.  It  also  reveals  that  a 
whole  new  development  of  spiritual  life  is  possible  to  every 
one.  Those  inspirations  which  before  have  glanced  upon  a  few, 
which  have  been  the  jDrivilege  of  genius,  are  now  to  become  a 
free  gift  to  all.  The  Holy  Ghost  is  to  carry  a  Hood  of  light 
and  energy  to  every  soul  that  is  willing. 

A  crisis  had  come  in  the  world's  psychology.  Reason  Avas  to 
receive  a  higher  development,  adding  to  the  senses  the  power 
of  fiiith.  Faith,  which  is  reason  inspired  to  intuitions  of  su- 
persensuous  truth,  (not  a  blind  credulity,  but  a  new  light,  a 
higher  reason,  acting  in  a  sphere  above  matter,)  was  thereafter 
to  become  developed  into  a  statui-e  and  power  of  which  the 
past  had  given  but  hints  and  glimpses. 

Jesus  remained  in  Judfea  from  April  to  December,  or,  as  some 
think,  till  January.  Nothing  can  more  forcibly  show  how  for 
the  Gospels  are  from  a  close  biography  than  the  fact  that  this 
period,  at  the  very  opening  of  his  public  ministry,  is  not  men- 
tioned by  Matthew,  Mark,  and  Luke,  Avho  do  not  even  give  an 
account  of  this  visit  to  Jerusalem  ;  while  John,  from  whom  we 
derive  all  our  knowledge  of  this  visit,  leaves  the  next  four 
months,  though  the  first  months  of  the  Saviour's  public  min- 
istry, without  a  I'ecord.  "After  these  things  came  Jesus  and 
his  disciples  into  the  land  of  Juda?a."  But  they  were  already 
in  Jerusalem  :  it  is  therefore  evident  that  they  went  out  of 
the  city  into  the  adjacent  parts,  probably  into  the  northeast  of 

^ S 


[p- ^ ^ 

166  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE  CHRIST. 

Judaja.  But  even  of  that  we  are  uncertain.  "  And  there  he 
tarried  with  them,  and  baptized."  It  is  not  said  where  he  bap- 
tized. It  is  added  that  John  "  was  baptizing  in  ^Enon,  because 
there  was  much  water  there."  But  where  iEnon  was  hardly 
any  two  investigators  agree,  —  whether  it  was  on  the  Jordan, 
or  at  certain  copious  springs,  the  source  of  a  stream  on  its 
western  side..  It  is  not  said  that  Jesus  was  near  Jolm.  All 
is  left  to  conjecture.  It  is  quite  certain  that  a  period  of  from 
four  to  six  months  elapsed  between  his  leaving  Capernaum  for 
the  Passover  at  Jerusalem  and  his  return  to  Galilee.  Even 
of  his  doings  there  is  no  hint,  except  only  of  his  baptizing ; 
and  this  was  not  performed  by  himself,  but  by  the  hands  of 
his  disciples.  During  these  four  or  five  months  occurred  the 
other  annual  feasts  of  the  Jewish  year,  —  the  Pentecost  and 
the  Feast  of  Tabernacles.  It  is  scarcely  possible  but  that  Je- 
sus, being  near  to  Jerusalem,  and  habitually  observant  of  the 
national  customs,  was  present  on  these  occasions  in  Jerusalem. 
Yet  no  mention  is  made  of  it.  Nor  is  it  said  that  he  preached 
at  all,  or  taught,  or  wrought  a  single  miracle  ;  and  yet  it  is 
scarcely  supposable  that,  after  having  entered  on  his  ministry, 
he  should  leave  so  many  months  utterly  blank.  It  has  been 
suggested  by  Andrews  that  during  this  period  may  have  begun 
his  acquaintance  with  the  family  of  Lazarus,  which  afterward 
constituted  so  remarkable  a  feature  of  his  history,  and  was  the 
occasion  of  a  miracle  which  gave  the  last  impulse  to  the  zeal 
of  his  opponents,  leading  to  his  arrest  and  death. 

If  this  reticence  of  the  Evangelists  arises  from  their  pecu- 
liarly un-literary  and  non-histoi'ic  genius,  it  is  not  unbecoming 
to  the  nature  of  Jesus.  There  was  never  so  impersonal  a  per- 
son as  he.  Although  to  an  extraordinary  degree  full  of  outward 
life  and  action,  yet  there  was  something  in  the  elevation  of 
his  nature  which  abstracts  our  thoughts  from  the  outward  form 
of  his  life.  As  in  the  presence  of  a  great  picture  we  forget 
tlie  canvas,  the  paint,  and  the  brush,  and  think  only  of  the 
events  and  objects  themselves ;  so  Jesus  leaves  upon  our  minds 
the  impression  not  of  the  journeys,  the  acts,  the  words  even, 
but  of  the  temper,  the  nobility  of  soul,  the  universal  truths  of 
his  life  and  teachings.  He  detaches  himself  from  the  world  in 
which   he   lived   and   through   which  he  acted,  as  the   perfume 

^ ^ 


f 


■a 


THE  FIRST  JUD^AN  MINISTRY.  167 

of  fragrant  vines  abandons  the  flowers  in  which  it  was  distilled 
and  fills  the  air. 

Jesus  was  full  of  a  generous  enthusiasm  for  his  own  coun- 
try and  people.  He  was  occupied  until  within  two  or  three 
years  of  his  death  in  mechanical  labors  peculiar  to  his  place 
and  time.  He  so  shaped  his  teachings  as  to  include  in  them 
all  the  truths  then  unfolded  among  his  countrj'men,  and  he 
identified  himself  with  the  common  people  in  the  use  of  their 
customs,  pursuits,  domestic  habits,  and  language  ;  so  that  he 
was  of  all  men  a  typical  Jew,  a  Hebrew  of  the  Hebrews.  And 
yet  his  life,  written  by  four  Evangelists,  themselves  Hebrews, 
produces  the  effect,  not  of  nationality,  but  of  universality. 

We  do  not  think  of  him  as  a  Jew,  but  as  a  man ;  and  each 
race  appropriates  him,  as  if  he  interpreted  their  truest  and 
deepest  conception  of  manhood.  That  which  was  peculiar  to 
his  age  and  country  seems  to  have  withered  and  dropped  awa}^ 
as  leaves  do  when  they  have  nourished  the  cluster,  Avhich  could 
not  have  ripened  without  them,  but  which,  being  grown,  is  un- 
like them  in  form,  in  color,  and  in  flavor. 

The  only  incident  mentioned  by  the  Evangelists  in  connec- 
tion with  Christ's  stay  in  Judaia  is  that  he  baptized  there.  Yet 
it  is  expressly  said,  "  Jesus  himself  baptized  not,  but  his  dis- 
ciples." The  use  of  water  as  a  sign  of  ceremonial  cleanness  is 
as  old  as  the  institutes  of  Moses,  and  probably  was  borrowed 
from  Egyptian  customs.  It  may  be  said  to  be  a  custom  almost 
universal  among  Oriental  nations.  It  was  natural  that  water 
should  become  in  like  manner  a  symbol  and  declaration  of 
moral  purity.  In  this  important  element,  the  baptism  of  John, 
the  baptism  of  Jesus,  and  the  baptism  of  the  Apostles  in  the 
early  Church  are  substantially  one.  There  was,  undoul:)tedly, 
a  variation  of  formula.  Paul  says  that  John  baptized  a  baptism 
of  I'epentance,  and  made  his  converts  promise  obedience  to  the 
Saviour  that  was  to  come.  No  such  formula  could  have  been 
used  in  the  presence  of  the  Saviour  himself.  Nor  can  we  sup- 
pose that  the  apostolic  formula,  by  which  candidates  were  bap- 
tized into  the  name  of  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghost, 
could  have  been  unfolded  at  this  early  period.  But  whatever 
the  formula,  and  whatever  the  specific  variations,  all  these 
forms  of  baptism  were   essentially  one,  and  were  but  a  token 


tr 


-ff 


^ 


■a 


1C8  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

jind  announcement  of  moral  changes  begun  or  promised.  It 
was  of  jjowerful  influence  in  giving  decision  and  definiteness 
to  moral  reformation.  Good  resolutions  without  action  soon 
melt  away.  Mere  purposes  of  a  better  life  change  easily  to 
dreams  and  reveries.  But  men  who  have  openly  declared 
their  withdrawal  from  evil,  and  their  adhesion  to  virtue  and 
piety,  are  connnitted  before  their  fellows.  After  an  open  es- 
pousal of  religion,  that  pride  and  vanity  which  before  resisted, 
now  fortify  men's  zeal. 

It  is,  however,  remarkable,  that  only  in  these  early  and 
obscure  periods  of  his  ministry,  and  while  he  was  in  John's 
neighborhood  and  surrounded  by  a  community  that  had  been 
aroused  by  that  bold  and  stern  reformer,  did  Christ  continue 
in  the  use  of  baptism.  There  seems  to  have  been  a  special 
reason  why  he  should  drop  it.  A  dispute  arose  between  John's 
disciples  and  those  of  Jesus  "  about  purifying."  What  it  was, 
is  not  said.  It  is  supposed  to  relate  to  some  form  of  bap- 
tizing. Where  men  had  been  trained  in  the  school  of  the 
Pharisee,  it  would  not  be  hard  to  find  occasion  of  difference. 
The  moral  duty  of  accuracy  in  outward  forms  was  the  peculiar 
spirit  of  Pharisaism.  Indifterence  to  all  religious  forms,  if  only 
the  interior  reality  be  present,  was  the  spirit  of  Christ.  To 
him  baptism  was  a  secondary  matter,  incidental  and  declara- 
tory. It  Avas  not  an  initiation,  but  the  sign  of  one.  It  con- 
veyed no  moral  change,  but  it  was  the  profession  of  one.  It 
was  an  act  which  required  a  disclosure  of  feeling,  the  manifes- 
tation of  a  purpose,  commitment  to  a  vital  decision  ;  and  so  far 
as  by  this  outward  action  men  could  be  aided  in  the  struggles 
of  a  new  life,  it  was  useful,  —  so  far  and  no  farther.  Already 
Jesus  had  expounded  to  Nicodemus  the  inopei'ative  nature  of 
baptism  as  a  mere  sign  of  reformation  :  "  Except  a  man  be  born 
of  water  and  of  ihe  Spirit,  he  cannot  enter  into  the  kingdom  of 
God " ;  which  is  saying,  in  effect,  Do  not  rest  in  the  mere  fact 
that  you  have  been  baptized.  John,  indeed,  baptized  to  repen- 
tance and  reformation.  That  is  but  the  lowest  step ;  it  is  a 
mere  shadow  and  symbol.  Hast  thou  been  baptized  ?  That 
is  not  enough.  Except  a  man  be  born  of  water  and  of  the 
Spirit,  he  cannot  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God. 

But  this  long  dispute  that  had  begun  betAveen  the  disciples 

^ : — ^ 


#- -a 

THE  FIRST  JUDJEAN  MINISTRY.  169 

of  Jesus  and  of  John  is  not  ended  yet.  Which  of  two  bap- 
tisms is  best,  —  either  of  which  is  good  enough  as  a  symbol, 
and  neither  of  which  is  good  for  any  tiling  else,  —  still  engages 
good  men  in  conscientious  and  useless  controversy.  The  Jews 
who  had  been  baptized  by  John  thought,  doubtless,  that  they 
had  been  better  baptized  than  those  other  Jews  who  had  been 
baptized  by  the  disciples  of  Jesus.  It  is  very  likely  that  there 
was  some  slight  difference  in  the  way  of  handling  the  candi- 
dates. Doubtless  the  words  spoken  over  them  in  the  formula 
of  baptism  were  a  little  different.  But  the  Jews  had  been 
reared  to  a  ceremonial  worship,  and  had  become  very  rigorous 
in  the  observance  of  each  slightest  particular  of  an  external 
service,  lest  the  absence  of  any  single  particle  would  leave  a 
leak  through  which  all  the  virtue  would  run  out.  Ceremonial- 
ism tends  to  scrupulosity,  and  scrupulosity  to  superstition,  and 
superstition  is  idolatry.  To  this  day  men  are  yet  camped  down 
beside  the  Jordan,  disputing  about  baptism ;  and  now,  as  then, 
in  the  full  blaze  of  a  system  whose  whole  force  is  spiritual, 
disciples  are  divided,  not  even  on  an  ordinance,  but  on  the 
external  method  of  its  administration.  Good  men  have  in- 
trenched their  consciences  behind  an  externality  of  an  exter- 
nality. Nor  is  the  whole  common  spiritual  wealth  of  Christian- 
ity able  to  unite  men  who  have  quai-relled  over  the  husk  and 
rind  of  a  symbolical  ordinance. 

There  came  near  being  two  sects.  It  needed  only  that  the 
leaders  on  this  question  of  baptism  should  take  sides  with  their 
disciples  effectually  to  split  their  common  movement  into  two 
warring  halves.  Jesus,  seeing  the  danger,  not  only  left  the 
neighborhood,  but  ceased  baptizing.  There  is  no  record  or  hint 
from  this  day  that  any  of  his  disciples,  or  even  that  his  own 
Apostles,  were  baptized. 

It  is  never  easy  for  a  master  to  see  his  authority  waning  and 
another  taking  his  place.  Therefore  when  on  this  occasion 
John's  disciples  resorted  to  him,  saying,  "He  that  was  with 
thee  beyond  Jordan,  to  whom  thou  barest  witness,  behold,  the 
same  baptizeth,  and  all  men  come  to  him,''  we  see  in  his  answer 
a  disposition  worthy  of  the  forerunner  of  Christ.  Only  the  no- 
blest natures  so  rejoice  in  the  whole  work  of  God  on  earth 
that  they  are  willing  to  "spend  and  be   spent"   for  the   sake 

^ j] 


[fl— ^ 

170  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

of  the  common  good.  John's  camel's  hair  and  food  of  the 
Avildei'ness  were  well  enough ;  his  stern  morality  and  burning 
zeal  in  reforming  his  people  were  commendable  ;  but  not  all 
of  them  revealed  his  true  nobility  as  did  the  reply  of  this  uu- 
sectarian  leader  to  his  sectarian  disciples  :  "I  am  not  the  Christ. 
I  am  sent  before  him.  He  must  increase,  I  must  decrease." 
Thus  John  yielded  up  his  place,  even  as  a  flower  iiiUs  and  dies 
that  it  may  give  place  to  the  fruit  that  swells  beneath  it.  Nor 
ought  we  to  lose  the  beauty  of  that  figure  which  John  em- 
ployed :  "  The  friend  of  the  bridegroom,  which  standeth  and 
heareth  him,  rejoiceth  greatly  because  of  the  bridegroom's 
voice  :  this  my  joy  therefore  is  fulfilled."  Jesus  is  the  true 
bridegroom,  I  am  only  his  groomsman  ;  but  I  make  his  hap- 
piness my  own ! 

The  time  had  come  for  Jesus  to  leave  Judoea.  Warned  by 
these  disputes  of  the  danger  of  a  useless  controversy,  and  per- 
ceiving as  Avell  that  his  opportunity  was  not  yet  ripe,  he  pre- 
pared to  go  home  to  Galilee.  He  felt  the  access  of  a  larger 
power.  He  had  thus  far  pursued  his  work  in  a  tentative  way, 
and  without  displaying  those  wonderful  influences  which  so 
often  afterward  swept  everything  before  him.  But  as  when  he 
came  up  from  the  Jordan  the  Spirit  of  God  descended  upon 
him ;  so  a  second  time,  now  on  the  eve  of  his  great  missionary 
circuit,  his  soul  was  wonderfully  replenished  and  exalted.  He 
ro.se  to  a  higher  sphere.  He  took  one  more  step  back  toward 
his  full  original  self.  A  portion  of  that  might  and  majesty 
Avhich  had  been  restrained  by  his  mortal  flesh  was  unfolding, 
and  he  was  to  work  with  a  higher  power  and  upon  a  higher 
plane  than  before. 

By  weaving  together  from  the  four  Evangelists  the  account 
of  his  departure,  we  shall  get  a  clear  view  of  the  grounds  on 
which  the  above  remarks  are  founded. 

"•  Now  after  that  John  was  put  in  pri.son,  and  Jesus  had  heard 
that  he  was  cast  into  prison,  and  when  the  Lord  knew  how  the 
Pharisees  had  heai'd  that  Jesus  made  and  baptized  more  dis- 
ciples than  John  (though  Jesus  himself  baptized  not,  but  his 
di.sciples),  he  left  Juda?a,  and  departed  again,  and  returned  in  the 
poivcr  of  the  Spirit  into  Galilee!^ 


a- ^ ^ 


CHAPTER   XI. 


THE  LESSON  AT  JACOB'S  WELL. 


FROM  Jerusalem  to  Galilee  the  shortest  and  in  many  respects 
the  most  interesting  road  ran  directly  north,  along  the  high- 
est ridge  of  the  Judocan  hills.  This  table-land  was  comparatively 
narrow.  On  the  east,  its  flank  was  cut  by  deep  ravines  running 
down  to  the  Jordan.  On  the  west,  another  system  of  ravines 
ran  down  to  the  great  maritime  plain.  Along  the  upper  line 
between  these  gorges  and  valleys,  the  table-land  was  of  variable 
breadth,  and  in  the  time  of  our  Lord  was  clothed  with  trees 
and  vines  to  an  e:?^tent  that  can  hardly  be  imagined  by  one 
who  views  it  in  its  present  barren  and  desolate  state. 

This  region,  including  the  ravines  and  valleys  shooting  down 
on  either  hand  from  the  ridge,  may  be  called  the  military 
ground  of  Palestine.  At  almost  every  step  one  might  here  re- 
call some  famous  conflict.  It  was  along  this  plateau  that  Joshua 
fought  his  chief  battles.  Here  Saul  triumphed,  and  here  he  was 
finally  overthrown  and  slain.  Over  this  ground  the  ark  went  in 
captivity  to  Philistia.  David  fought  over  every  inch  of  this 
territory,  hid  in  its  caves,  wandered  in  its  wilderness,  and  at 
length  secured  peace  from  his  enemies  through  their  final  ovei-- 
throw  and  subjugation.  In  his  day  Jerusalem,  wholly  wrested 
from  the  Jebusites,  became  the  capital  of  the  nation,  which 
reached  the  summit  of  its  prosperity  under  the  brilliant  but 
delusive  reign  of  Solomon.  The  glory  of  that  reign  was  autum- 
nal, and  presaged  decay. 

The  very  names  of  towms  and  cities  on  either  side  of  this  great 
road  are  histories.  Ai,  —  the  first  city  conquered  by  Joshua, — 
Gibeah,  Mizpeh,  Michmash,  Gibeon,  Beth-horon,  Bethel,  Gilgal, 
Shiloh,  Shechem,  and  many  others,  could  hardly  fail  to  call  up 
to   any   intelligent  Jew   a   host   of   historic   remembrances.      At 

eg S 


c&- -^ 

172  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE  CHRIST. 

Bethel  (Liiz)  Abraham  pitched  his  tent,  finding  then,  as  is  still 
found,  excellent  pasturage ;  and  here  he  and  Lot  separated. 
This  place  was  the  annual  resort  of  Samuel  to  judge  Israel. 
Here  Jeroboam  set  up  the  golden  calf,  when  he  designed  to 
draw  away  the  ten  tribes  from  the  worship  of  Jehovah.  It  was 
a  place  of  eminent  sacredness  in  Jewish  history,  and  the  prophet 
Amos  (v.  5)  sadly  and  solemnly  predicts  its  ruin. 

Under  the  palm-trees  between  Rama  and  Bethel,  on  the 
mount  of  Ephraim,  the  prophetess  Deborah  sat  and  judged  Is- 
rael (Judges  iv.  4,  v.  12).  It  was  hard  by  Bethel,  but  east- 
ward, that  our  Saviour,  near  the  close  of  his  life,  took  refuge 
in  the  city  of  Ephraim  —  Ephron  and  Ophrah  of  the  Old  Tes- 
tament —  from  the  malice  of  his  enemies  in  Jerusalem,  and 
thence  crossed  over  Jordan  to  Pera?a.  The  names  of  Abraham, 
of  Isaac,  of  Jacob,  and  of  Joseph,  —  whose  grave  is  near  to 
Shechcm,  —  are  associated  with  every  step  of  the  way.  The 
lapse  of  time  has  obliterated  for  us  a  thousand  monuments  and 
landmarks  which  must  have  been  fresh  and  vital  in  the  day 
when  our  Lord  passed  by  them.  Each  bald  rock  had  its  tale, 
every  ravine  its  legend,  every  mountain  peak  its  history.  The 
very  tree.«!,  gnarled  and  lifted  high  on  some  signal  hill,  brought 
to  mind  many  a  stirring  incident.  This  was  'the  road  over 
which  Jesus  himself  had  gone  in  his  childhood  with  Mary  and 
with  Joseph. 

All  modern  travellers  are  enraptured  with  the  beauty  of  the 
vale  in  which  Shechem  stands.  Coming  down  from  the  Juda?an 
hills,  from  among  rocky  passes  and  stinted  arboreous  vegetation, 
the  contrast  at  once  presented  of  luxuriant  fields  of  wheat  and 
bax'ley,  the  silvery  green  of  olive-trees,  the  fig,  the  oak,  together 
with  the  company  of  singing  birds,  would  fill  the  sensitive  mind 
with  delight.  Van  de  Velde  presents  a  striking  picture,  not 
only  of  the  beauty  of  the  vale  of  Shechem,  but  of  the  atmos- 
pheric appearance  of  Palestine  in  general,  which  is  worthy  of 
preservation. 

"  The  awful  gorge  of  the  Leontes  is  grand  and  bold  beyond 
description ;  the  hills'  of  Lebanon,  over  against  Sidon,  are  mag- 
nificent and  sublime ;  the  valley  of  the  hill  of  Naphtali  is  rich 
in  wild  oak  forest  and  brush-wood  ;  those  of  Asher  and  Wady 
Kara,  for  example,  present  a  beautiful  combination  of  wood  and 

^ ^ -^ 


a- -^ 

THE  LESSON  AT  JACOBS    WELL.  173 

mountain  stream  in  all  the  magnificence  of  undisturbed  origi- 
nality. Carmel,  with  its  wilderness  of  timber  trees  and  shrubs, 
of  plants  and  bushes,  still  answers  to  its  ancient  reputation  for 
magnificence. 

"  But  the  vale  of  Shechem  differs  from  them  all.  Here  there 
is  no  wilderness,  here  there  are  no  wild  thickets,  yet  there  is 
always  verdure,  —  always  shade,  not  of  the  oak,  the  terebinth, 
and  the  caroub-tree,  but  of  the  olive-grove,  so  soft  in  color,  so 
picturesque  in  form,  that  for  its  sake  we  can  willingly  dispense 
with  all  other  wood. 

"  Here  there  are  no  imjjetuous  mountain  torrents,  yet  there 
is  water,  —  water,  too,  in  more  copious  supplies  than  anywhere 
else  in  the  land  ;  and  it  is  just  to  its  many  fountains,  rills,  and 
water-courses  that  the  valley  owes  its  exquisite  beauty. 

"  Tliex'e  is  a  singularity  about  the  vale  of  Shechem,  and  that 
is  the  peculiar  coloring  which  objects  assume  in  it.  You  know 
that  wherever  there  is  water  the  air  becomes  charged  with  wat- 
ery particles,  and  that  distant  objects,  beheld  through  that  me- 
dium, seem  to  be  enveloped  in  a  pale  blue  or  gray  mist,  such 
as  contributes  not  a  little  to  give  a  charm  to  the  landscape. 
But  it  is  precisely  these  atmospheric  tints  that  we  miss  so  much 
in  Palestine.  Fiery  tints  are  to  be  seen  both  in  the  morning 
and  the  evening,  and  glittering  violet  or  purple-colored  hues 
where  the  light  falls  next  to  the  long,  deep  shadows ;  but  there 
is  an  absence  of  coloring,  and  of  that  charming  dusky  haze  in 
which  objects  assume  such  softly  blended  forms,  and  in  which 
also  the  transition  in  color  from  the  foreground  to  the  farthest 
distance  loses  the  hardness  of  outline  jDCCuliar  to  the  perfect 
transparency  of  an  Eastern  sky. 

"  It  is  otherwise  in  the  vale  of  Shechem,  at  least  in  the 
morning  and  the  evening.  Here  the  exhalations  remain  hov- 
ering among  the  branches  and  leaves  of  the  olive-trees,  and 
hence  that  lovely  bluish  haze. 

"  The  valley  is  far  from  broad,  not  exceeding  in  some  places 
a  few  hundred  feet.  This  you  find  generally  enclosed  on  all 
sides  :  there  likewise  the  vapors  are  condensed.  And  so  you 
advance  under  the  shade  of  the  foliage  along  the  living  waters, 
and  charmed  by  the  melody  of  a  host  of  singing  birds,  —  for 
they,  too,  know  where  to  find  their  best  quarters,  —  while  the 

^ ^ 


[&- -a 

174  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,   THE  CHRIST. 

perspective  fades  away,  and  is  lost  in  the  damp,  vapoiy  atmos- 
phere." ^ 

At  no  other  spot  in  Palestine,  probably,  could  Jesus  have  more 
fitly  uttered  his  remarkable  doctrine  of  the  absolute  liberty  of 
conscience  from  all  thrall  of  place  or  tradition  than  here  in  She- 
chem,  where  the  whole  Jewish  nation,  in  a  peculiar  sense,  had 
its  beginning.  It  was  here  that  the  great  patriarch,  Abraham, 
made  his  lirst  halt  in  Canaan,  coming  down  from  Damascus  and 
from  Ur  of  the  Chaldees,  before  anj^  regular  village  existed 
except  the  huddled  tents  of  Bedouins.  Here  he  built  an  altar 
and  worshipped.  That  faint  smoke  which  lay  in  the  air  but 
for  a  moment  against  the  background  of  Gerizim  or  Ebal  was 
the  prophecy  of  myriads  of  sacrificial  fires  in  after  ages,  kindled 
in  this  land  by  his  posterity,  to  that  God  who  was  then  for  the 
first  time  worshipped  in  Palestine.  From  Abraham  to  Christ 
had  been  a  long  and  weary  way ;  but  now  the  Messiah  was 
come,  the  last  sacrifice.  Thenceforth  neither  in  this  mountain 
nor  yet  at  Jerusalem  should  men  worship  God,  but  under 
every  sky,  in  every  spot  where  a  true  heart  yearned  or  suf- 
fered. 

It  was  here  that  Jacob  first  pitched  his  tent,  having  pai'ted 
from  Esau  in  safety,  and  come  down  to  the  Jordan  through  the 
valley  cleft  by  the  river  Jabbok.  "  And  he  bought  a  parcel 
of  a  field,  where  he  had  spread  his  tent,  at  the  hand  of  the 
children  of  Hamor,  Shechom's  fiither,  for  an  hundred  pieces  of 
money.  And  he  erected  there  an  altar,  and  called  it  El-Eloiie- 
IsRAEL."  AVhen  the  Israelites  returned  from  Egypt  and  crossed 
the  Jordan,  they  lay  for  a  time  in  the  vallej',  thrusting  out  an 
arm,  as  it  were,  to  destroy  the  chief  cities  on  the  hills  be- 
tween what  is  now  Jerusalem  and  Shechem.  But  the  first  per- 
manent removal  of  the  whole  camp  into  the  interior  brought 
them  to  this  vale,  and  here  they  discharged  their  sacred  trust, 
and  buried  the  bones  of  Joseph  near  the  foot  of  the  mountain. 
It  is  one  of  the  few  burial-places  of  the  earlier  heroes  of  the 
Hebi'cws  which  may  be  regarded  as  having  been  accurately  pre- 
served by  tradition. 

It  was  in  this  vale,  and  in  the  presence  of  these  mountains, 
Gerizim  on   the   south    and  Ebal  on  the  north,  that  the  most 

'  Van  de  Velile,  I.  386,  as  quoted  by  Stanley. 

^ ^ 


[fi-^ ^ , 

THE  LESSON  AT  JACOB'S    WELL.  I7.5 

august  assembly  which  history  has  ever  recorded  was  gathered 
together.  Before  the  tribes  were  separated  and  sent  to  their 
respective  allotments  of  territory,  while  yet  the  people  were 
living  a  camp    life,  — a    vast  camp  of  three   million  souls,  — a 

movable   city,  a  wandering  state,  a  nomadic  commonwealth, 

it  seemed  desirable  to  produce  upon  their  memory  and  their  im- 
agination a  solemn  impression,  that  should  not  wear  out  for  gen- 
erations, of  their  especial  calling,  of  their  eminent  moral  duties 
as  a  peculiar  nation,  the  people  of  Jehovah. 

Into  the  nariow  plain  of  Shechem  came  the  whole  nation.     On 
the  north  stood  precipitous  Ebal,  over  against  it  on  the  south 
was  Gerizim.     The  tribes  were  divided.     Six  tribes  drew  arovmd 
the    base   and  lined    the  sides    of  the    one    mountain,   and   six 
swarmed  up,  a  million  and  a  half  of  men,  women,  and  children, 
upon  the  other;  the  ark,  the  priests  and  Levites,  standing  mid- 
way between  the  two  great  mountains.     Then  the  nation,  with 
a  dramatic  solemnity  unparalleled,  entered  into  a  covenant  with 
God.     All  other  historic  assemblages  sink  into  insignificance  com- 
pared with  this.     For  grandeur  it  can  be  equalled  only  in  the 
representation  of  the  great  final  Judgment  day  and    the   gor- 
geous  Apocalyptic  visions.      The  whole   Law  was  read  by  die 
Levites,  to  its  last  Avords.     Nor,  from  the  accounts  of  traveUers, 
can  there    be   a  doubt   that  in   the   clear  aii-  of  Palestine    the 
human    voice    could  make  itself  distinctly  audible   through  all 
the  vale  and  the  mountain  galleries,  crowded  with  three  million 
peoiDle.     The  most  striking,  as  doubtless  it  was  the  most  thrilling, 
part  of  the   service   followed  the   reading  of  the  Law.     Moses 
had  drawn  up  an  inventory  of  blessings  which  should  come  up- 
on the  people  if  they  kept  the  law ;  and  twice  as  many  curses, 
of  extraordinary  variety  and  bitterness,  if  they  were  unfaithful 
to  the  Law.     As  each  blessing  was  promised,  all  the  people  on 
Gerizim  shouted  a  cheerful  Amex  !    To  the  curses,  a  sullen  Amex  ! 
Avas  echoed  back  from  Ebal.     Thus  the  mountains  cried  one  to 
the  other,  like  the  sound  of  many  waters,  in  thunders  of  curses 
and  of  blessings. 

For  a  long  time  Shechem  served  as  a  kind  of  capital ;  and 
even  after  Jerusalem  had  become  the  chief  and  royal  city,  coro- 
nations took  place  at  Shechem,  as  if  it  had  a  relation 'to  the 
nation's  history  which  gave  it  peculiar  sanctity. 

^ 


-a 


-ff 


'^ -a 

176  77/^  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

Samaria  was  inhal)iterl  in  the  time  of  Christ  by  the  descen- 
dants of  heathen  nations,  sent  thither  by  the  king  of  Babylon 
to  replace  the  Jews,  of  whom  the  land  had  been  stripped  bare 
by  Shalmaneser,  B.  C.  721.  They  had,  however,  endeavored  to 
adopt  the  Jewish  worship  without  entirely  relinquishing  idola- 
try. Being  rejielled  by  the  Jews  from  all  participation  in  the 
building  of  the  Temple  at  Jerusalem,  they  had  built  a  temple 
of  their  own  upon  Mount  Gerizim,  and  claimed  for  it  a  sanctity 
even  greater  than  that  of  Jerusalem.  The  enmity  between  the 
Jew  and  the  Samaritan  rose  to  such  a  pitch  that  they  refused 
all  intercourse  with  each  other.  The  education  of  the  Jew  made 
him  a  very  determined  hater,  and  every  patriotic  impulse  and 
the  whole  fervor  of  his  religious  feeling  quickened  and  intensi- 
fied the  hatred  and  contempt  with  which  he  looked  upon  a 
mongrel  race  who  practised  idolatry,  the  greatest  crime  known 
to  the  Jew,  under  the  pretence  of  a  rival  worship  of  Jehovah. 
There  is  no  passion  so  strong  in  human  nature  as  an  educated 
religious  hatred.  It  was  this  national  abhorrence  that  gave  such 
audacity  to  the  paral)le  of  the  Good  Samaritan,  uttered  by  our 
Lord,  and  that  marks  the  interview  at  Jacob's  well. 

There  is  no  means  of  determining  with  exactness  at  what 
time  of  the  year  Christ  passed  through  Samaria,  and  conse- 
quently scholars  fix  the  time  all  along  from  November  to  March. 
We  incline  to  the  opinion  that  it  was  not  far  from  December. 
With  his  few  discijjles,  Jesus  came  from  the  mountain  of  Ephraim 
into  the  plain  of  Shechem,  and  of  course  approached  the  passage 
between  Gerizim  and  Ebal  at  its  eastern  end.  Robinson  says 
that  Jacob's  well  is  "  on  the  end  of  a  low  spur  or  swell  running 
out  from  the  northeastern  base  of  Gerizim,  and  is  still  iifteen 
or  twenty  feet  above  the  level  of  the  plain  below."  The  whole 
region  around  is  alive  with  natural  sj^rings.  Seventy  distinct 
fountains  have  been  counted,  some  of  them  gushing  with  such 
force  and  abundance,  that,  after  supplying  many  houses  and 
gardens,  the  waste  water  is  still  sufficient  to  turn  small  mills. 

This  very  abundance  of  springs  has  given  rise  to  the  doubt- 
ing question,  Why  should  Jacob  dig  a  well  ten  feet  in  diameter, 
to  the  depth  of  eighty-five  feet,  thi'ough  solid  rock,  for  the  sake 
of  obtaining  water,  when  alread}^  water  bubbled  up  in  extraor- 
dinary abundance  on   every  side  ?      The  reason  doubtless  was, 

^ S 


fl- -a 

THE  LESSON  AT  JACOBS    WELL.  177 

that  these  natural  fountains  were  ah-eady  in  possession  of  the 
native  population,  who  would  be  jealous  of  a  foreigner  whose 
vast  herds  and  flocks,  and  whose  household  servants  and  trained 
bands,  indicated  a  power  and  prosperity  which  they  did  not 
altogether  enjoy.  In  that  land  a  well-spring  was  a  valuable 
private  property,  held  by  families  and  tribes  very  much  as  coal 
and  iron  mines  and  water-powers  are,  in  our  day,  owned  by 
companies.  Besides,  in  the  watering  of  Jacob's  great  flocks  there 
would  be  peculiar  danger  of  quarrels  and  conflicts  with  native 
herdsmen.  It  was  like  Jacob  —  a  pacific  and  sagacious  manager, 
better  fitted  for  keeping  out  of  danger  than  for  the  display  of 
courage  and  the  love  of  fighting  —  to  provide  a  well  of  his  own, 
and  thus  to  secure  at  the  same  time  peace  with  his  neighbors 
and  personal  independence.  This  well  is  among  the  few  me- 
morials of  the  patriarchal  period  about  which  tradition  is  hardly 
suspected  of  lying.  It  is  safe  to  accept  it  as  a  gift  to  posterity 
from  the  very  hands  of  the  most  politic  and  worldly-wise  of  all 
the  Jewish  patriarchs.  Around  it  his  own  flocks  have  flourished. 
He  has  himself  stood  at  evening  to  see  the  eager  herds  rushing 
to  the  stone  troughs  to  slake  their  thirst.  In  that  burning  land 
thirst  was  a  torment,  and  its  relief  a  great  luxury.  Indeed, 
there  are  few  of  the  lower  sensations  of  enjoyment  known  to 
man  that  equal  the  cup  of  cold  water  in  the  hour  of  thirst. 
And  he  is  not  fit  for  pastoral  life  who  does  not  take  pleasure 
in  watching  animals  drink.  We  may  be  sure  that  Jacob  often 
stood  by  the  watering-troughs  to  direct  the  ordei-ly  administra- 
tion of  things,  and  to  watch  the  scene  with  quiet  satisfaction. 
Eagerly  the  cattle  plunge  their  muzzles  deep  in  the  water. 
Tliey  lift  their  heads  for  breath,  the  drops  falling  back  to  the 
trough,  flashing  in  the  evening  light  like  opals.  They  drink 
again.  They  toss  the  water  now  with  their  lips  in  play.  They 
draw  large  draughts  and  stand  long  without  swallowing,  as  if 
to  cool  their  throats,  and  slowly  turn  away,  now  full  satisfied, 
to  couch  down,  with  long-drawn  breath,  and  rest  for  the  night. 
It  were  well  for  us  if  these  simple  rural  tastes  could  supplant 
the  feverish  pleasures  of  untimely  hours  in  crowded  towns, 
where  less  of  nature  and  more  of  man  Avork  corruption  of 
taste  and  of  morals. 

We  love  to  think  of  this  old  well  and  its  long  work  of  mercy. 

^ ^ 


178  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

Through  hundreds  and  through  thousands  of  years  at  its  brink 
have  stood  old  men,  little  children,  -weary  ])ilgrinis,  fair  maidens, 
grim  warriors,  stately  sheiks,  dusty  travellers, —  all  sorts  and 
conditions  of  the  East  and  of  the  West.  It  gave  forth  its  water 
to  the  good  and  bad  alike.  It  not  improbably  crowned  its  be- 
neficence by  furnishing  to  the  prophet  the  suggestion  of  "  wells 
of  salvation,"  which  in  time  were  transferred  to  the  idefil  city, 
the  great  overhanging  Home  of  mankind ;  and  the  message  of 
God  in  the  Revelation  closes  with  the  voice  of  one  crying  to 
the  whole  earth,  for  all  time,  "  And  the  Spirit  and  the  bride 
say.  Come.  And  let  him  that  heareth  say,  Come.  And  let  him 
that  is  athirst  come.  And  whosoever  will,  let  him  take  the 
water  of  life  freely." 

On  the  route  which  Jesus  had  chosen  from  Juda'a  to  Galilee 
*'  he  must  needs  pass  through  Samaria."  It  Avas  the  shortest 
and  easiest  road.  Yet  such  was  the  animosity  of  Jews  towards 
Samaritans  that  for  the  most  part  the  Jews  preferred  the  cir- 
cuitous road  through  Pera'a,  east  of  the  Jordan.  The  Decem- 
ber sun  was  not  so  fervid  as  to  forbid  travelling  through  the 
wliole  day.  It  was  about  noon  when  Jesus  came  to  Jacob's 
well.  There  was  a  stone  platform  about  it,  and  doubtless  other 
provision  was  made  for  the  comfort  of  travellers.  Here  Jesus 
rested  while  his  disciples  went  on  to  Sycliar  to  buy  food.  The 
town  of  Shechem,  like  its  modern  successor  Nablous,  was  two 
miles  from  the  well,  and  Sychar  was  prol)ably  the  name  for  a 
neighborhood  attached  to  Shechem,  but  much  nearer  to  the  well. 
Every  considerable  place  will  be  found  to  have  nicknames  for 
such  outlying  settlements,  and  Sychar  was  probably  such  a  one. 

Jesus  had  not  been  long  there  before  a  Samaritan  woman  ap- 
proached to  draw  water,  and  was  surprised  that  a  stranger,  and 
he  a  Jew,  should  say  to  her,  "  Give  me  to  drink."  Although 
an  easy,  good-natured  creature,  and  too  fond  of  society,  no  one 
should  say  that  she  had  not  shown  a  proper  spirit  in  standing 
up  for  the  right  of  all  Samaritans  to  hate  Jews  !  "  How  is  it 
that  thou,  being  a  Jew,  askest  drink  of  me,  who  am  a  woman 
of  Samaria?  " 

Chri.st  was  conscious  of  the  contrast  in  himself  between  ap- 
pearance and  reality.  He  felt  the  Divine  nature  within,  yet  to 
the  eye  there  was  no  divinity.     The  woman's  reply  touched  that 

^ S 


[&- 


-a 


THE  LESSON  AT  JACOBS    WELL.  179 


consciousness  of  his  real  superior  existence.  "If  thou  knewest 
the  gift  of  God,  and  who  it  is  that  saith  to  thee,  Give  nae  to 
drink,  thou  wouldest  have  asked  of  him,  and  he  would  have 
given  thee  living  water." 

We  see  in  this  conversation  again  the  very  same  sul:)tile  play 
of  thought  between  the  material  and  its  spiritual  counterpart 
which  was  shown  in  the  conversations  with  Nicodemus  and  Avith 
the    questioners    in    the    Temple.      Jesus    seems   like    one    who 
thought  on  two  different  planes.     He   recognized   the   qualities 
and  the  substance  of  this  world  as  they  appeared  to  his  follow- 
ers, while  their  outcome  and  value  and  meaning  in  the  spirit- 
ual life  was   his  real  and  inner  interpretation  of  them.      This 
doubleness  we  often  see  in  parents,  or  in  benevolent  teachers  of 
children,  who  go  along  with  the  child's  understanding,  and  yet 
perceive  that  things  are  not  as  the  child  thinks  them  to  be,  and 
their  consciousness  plays    back    and  forth    between   the   child's 
imperfect  sense  of  truth  and  their  own  truer  judgment  of  reality. 
Jesus  seemed  to  the  woman  to  be  talking  about  real  water. 
The  term  "  living  water "  has  not  necessarily  a  spiritual  signifi- 
cance.    Living  water  was  perhaps  to  her  ears  spring-water,  for 
nothing  seems  more   alive  than   running  water;    and  her  mind 
was  divided  between  respect   and  cui'iosity.     At  any  rate,  she 
now  bethinks  herself  of  his  title,  and  calls  him  Master,  or,  as  in 
the  English  version,  Sir.      «  Sir,  thou  hast  nothing  to  draw  with, 
and  the  well  is  deep  :  from  whence  then  hast  thou  that  livino- 
water?"     And  then  looking  upon  the  traveller,  and  in  her  mind 
contrasting  his  helpless  appearance  with  the  grand  ideas  enter- 
tained ])y  her  people  of  the  old  patriarch  Jacob,  she  adds,  with 
a  spice   of  humor,   "  Art  thou   greater    than  our  father  Jacob, 
which    gave    us    the  well,  and    drank   thereof  himself,   and    his 
children,  and   his  cattle?"     Without  doubt,   she   regarded  this 
answer  as  peculiarly  effective  from  a  Samaritan  to  a  Jew,  inas- 
much as  she  had  given  him  to  understand,  Jew  as  he  was,  that 
Jacob  was  also  the   Samaritan's  father,  and   that  the   detested 
Samaritan  owned  the  patriarch's  very  well,  so  that  thirsty  Jews 
were  obliged  to  come  begging  a  drink  of  the  very  people  whom 
they  despised  as  outcasts  from  Israel  and  out  of  covenant  with 
God.     If  such  was  her  feeling,  the  reply  of  Jesus  put  it  all  away, 
and  brought  her  to  a  different  mind.     Without  noticing  her  im- 


c0 -^ 

180  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

plied  taunts,  and  now  l)Oginning  to  let  her  see  that  he  was  not 
talking  of  the  water  in  Jacob's  well,  but  of  some  other,  —  what 
other  she  could  not  imagine,  —  he  said:  "Whosoever  drinketh 
of  this  water  shall  thirst  again  :  but  whosoever  drinketh  of  the 
water  that  I  shall  give  him  shall  never  thirst ;  but  the  water  that 
I  shall  give  him  shall  be  in  him  a  well  of  water  springing  up  into 
everlasting  life." 

As  the  body  thirsts,  and  is  contented  with  water,  so  there  is 
for  unanswered  yearning,  for  unsatisfied  desires,  for  all  that 
restlessness  and  craving  of  feeling,  for  the  thirst  of  the  soul,  a  liv- 
ing water  which  shall  quiet  them  ;  not  as  water  quiets  the  body, 
that  thirsts  again  in  an  hour,  but  with  an  abiding  and  eternal 
satisfaction.  This  is  indeed  that  "gift  of  God"  which,  had  she 
known,  would  have  made  her  suppliant  to  him.  Even  j^et  how 
few  knoAV  it !  How  few  among  Christian  believers  have  entered 
into  that  rest  of  soul,  that  trust  and  love,  Avliich  come  from  the 
Divine  Spirit,  and  which,  when  once  the  Holy  Spirit  has  fully 
shined  and  brought  sunnner  to  the  soul,  Avill  never  depart  from 
it,  but  will  I)e  an  eternal  joy ! 

None  of  all  this,  however,  did  she  understand.  Perhap.s,  while 
Christ  was  speaking,  she  revolved  in  her  mind  the  convenience 
of  the  new  sort  of  water  which  this  man  spoke  of,  and  what 
a  treasiu'e  it  would  be  if,  when  the  summer  came  on,  she  need 
not  trudge  wearily  to  this  well.  At  any  rate,  she  seems  to  have 
replied  in  a  business-like  spirit:  "Sir,  give  me  this  water,  that 
I  thirst  not,  neitlier  come  hither  to  draw."  There  are  many  like 
her,  who  would  be  glad  of  such  a  Divine  gift  of  religion  as 
should  take  away  all  labor  and  trouble  of  Christian  life.  "  That 
I  come  not  hither  to  draw  "  is  the  desire  of  thousands  who  want 
the  results  of  right  living  without  the  trouble  of  living  aright. 

But  it  was  time  to  bring  home  the  truth  to  her  conscience, 
instead  of  discussing  themes  which  this  poor  pleasure-loving 
creature  could  understand  even  less  than  Nicodemus.  As  if  he 
were  about  to  comply  Avith  her  request  for  this  gift  of  living 
water,  (by  which  very  likely  she  understood  that  he  would  dis- 
cover to  her  a  new  and  near  spring,  bubljling  up  close  at  hand 
near  her  dwelling,)  he  says  to  her  pointedly,  "  Go,  call  thy  hu.s- 
band."  There  must  have  been  in  the  tone  and  manner  some- 
thing which  startled  her  ;   for  eA-idently  this  adroit  woman  was, 

^ ^ 


^ -^ 

THE  LESSON  AT  JACOBS    WELL.  181 

for  the  moment,  thrown  off  her  guard.  Instead  of  waiving  the 
demand,  or  seeming  to  evade  it,  she  with  some  sense  of  shame 
hastily  repUed,  "  I  have  no  husband."  Like  an  arrow  well  aimed 
from  a  strong  bow  the  words  of  Jesus  struck  home  to  her  con- 
science. "Thou  hast  well  said,  I  have  no  husband:  for  thou  hast 
had  five  husbands ;  and  he  whom  thou  now  hast  is  not  thy  hus- 
band :  in  that  saidst  thou  truly." 

It  was  but  a  second  of  confusion.  The  woman  was  of  nimble 
thought,  and  had  been  jjractised  in  quick  ways.  There  is  great 
diplomacy  in  her  recognizing  the  truth  of  the  allegation  in  a 
way  of  compliment  to  this  stranger,  rather  than  of  shame  to 
herself :  "  Sir,  I  perceive  that  thou  art  a  prophet."  And  then, 
with  fluent  dexterity,  she  eludes  the  personal  topic  and  glides 
into  the  stock  argument  between  the  Jew  and  the  Samaritan. 
Nor  can  we  help  noticing  the  consummate  tact  with  which  she 
managed  her  case.  "  Our  fathers  worshipped  in  this  mountain." 
And  there,  right  before  them,  rose  Mount  Gerizim,  its  temple 
blazing  in  the  midday  sun,  and  beginning  already  to  cast  its 
shadows  somewhat  toward  the  east.  The  argument,  too,  of  "  our 
fathers"  has  always  proved  strong.  Opinions,  like  electricity,  are 
supposed  to  descend  more  safely  along  an  unbroken  chain.  That 
which  "our  fathers"  or  our  ancestors  believed  is  apt  to  seem 
necessarily  true  ;  and  the  longer  the  roots  of  any  belief,  the  more 
flourishing,  it  is  supposed,  will  be  its  top.  "Our  fothers  wor- 
shipped in  this  mountain,  and  ye  say  that  in  Jerusalem  is  the 
l^lace  where  men  ought  to  worship."  This  was  the  bone  of  con- 
tention. Worship  had  ceased  to  be  the  offering  of  the  heart, 
and  had  become  a  superstition  of  places  and  external  methods. 

The  reply  of  Jesus  is  striking  in  its  appeal  to  her  for  cre- 
dence :  "  Woman,  believe  me,  the  hour  cometh,  when  ye  shall 
neither  in  this  mountain,  nor  yet  at  Jerusalem,  worship  the 
Father."  This  answer  was  not  in  the  spirit  of  the  Greek  phi- 
losophy, which  Avas  the  parent  of  scepticism  ;  nor  in  the  Orien- 
tal spirit,  which  was  full  of  superstition ;  nor  in  the  Roman  spirit, 
which  was  essentially  worldly  and  unreligious ;  and  far  less  did 
it  breathe  the  contemporary  Jewish  spirit,  whether  of  Pharisee 
or  of  Sadducee.  It  expresses  the  renunciation  of  the  senses  in 
worship.  It  throws  back  upon  the  heart  and  soul  of  every  one, 
whoever  he  may  be,  wherever  he  may  be,  the  whole  office  of 

*- ^ 


#- -a 

182  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

worship.  It  is  the  first  gleam  of  the  new  morning.  No  longer 
in  this  nest  alone,  or  in  that,  shall  religion  be  looked  for,  but, 
escaping  from  its  shell,  heard  in  all  the  earth,  in  notes  the 
same  in  every  language,  flying  unrestrained  and  free,  the  whole 
heavens  shall  be  its  sphere  and  the  whole  earth  its  home. 

But,  for  a  moment  restraining  these  imperial  views,  Jesus  de- 
clares that  in  so  far  as  the  truth  taught  at  Mount  Zion  is  to 
be  compared  with  that  at  Gerizim,  Jerusalem  is  nearer  the  truth 
of  God  than  Shechem.  "Ye  worship  ye  know  not  what:  we 
know  what  we  worship  ;  for  salvation  is  of  the  Jews."  He  thus 
authenticates  the  religion  of  the  old  dispensation,  identifies  him- 
self with  the  Jews  as  distinguished  from  the  Samaritans,  and 
witnesses  to  the  essential  truth  of  their  views  of  God  and  of 
Divine  government.  Resuming  again  the  theme  of  religion  set 
free  from  all  external  constraints  and  all  su^ierstitions  of  place 
and  method,  he  adds :  "  But  the  hour  cometh,  and  now  is, 
when  the  true  worshippers  shall  worship  the  Father  in  spirit 
and  in  truth  :  for  the  Father  seeketh  such  to  worship  him.  God 
is  a  s])irit,  and  they  that  worship  him  must  worship  him  in  spirit 
and  in  truth."      Henceforth  religion  shall  be  personal,  not  official. 

Sol)ered  by  the  impressive  manner  of  Jesus,  and  having  an 
indistinct  feeling  of  a  great  truth  in  his  teaching,  the  woman 
waives  the  dispute,  and,  catching  at  his  repeated  allusion  to 
the  new  coming  future,  safely  closes  her  part  in  saying,  "  I 
know  that  Messias  cometh,  which  is  called  Christ :  when  he  is 
come,  he  will  tell  us  all  things.  Jesus  saith  unto  her,  I  that 
speak  unto  thee  am  he."  But  just  then  came  the  disciples,  and 
we  have  never  ceased  to  wish  that  they  had  stayed  away  a  little 
longer,  for  the  conversation  had  reached  a  point  at  which  one  is 
breathless  for  the  next  sentence.  The  disciples  were  curious 
and  surprised  to  find  their  Master  thus  engaged,  and  would 
have  asked  inquisitively  what  he  was  talking  about ;  but  there 
was  something  in  his  manner  which  checked  familiarity.  "No 
man  said,  Why  talkest  thou  with  her  ?  " 

Whether  Jesus  received  at  the  hands  of  the  woman  the  cov- 
eted draught  of  water,  Ave  know  not.  Carried  away  by  the 
thoughts  of  the  new  heaven  and  the  new  earth,  in  the  glo- 
rious efflux  of  the  .spirit  of  life  and  liberty  he  may  have  for- 
gotten his  bodily  thirst. 

4- i 


a _ 

THE  LESSON  AT  JACOB'S    WELL.  183 

It  is  certain  that  the  excitement  of  his  soul  so  wrought  upon 
his  body  as  to  take  away  his  desire  for  food,  for,  when  his  dis- 
ciples urged  him  to  eat,  his  enigmatical  reply  was,  "I  have 
meat  to  eat  that  ye  know  not  of"  And  they,  in  their  sim- 
phcity,  asked  whether  any  one  had  brought  food  to  him.  Then 
he  declared  that  not  bread,  but  work,  was  his  food.  He  felt  the 
power  of  the  Spirit.  His  own  spirit  was  kindled,  and  streamed 
forth  toward  the  field  of  labor,  which  was  ripe  and  waiting  for 
the  sickle  of  the  truth.  The  vale  of  Shechem  was  famous  for 
its  grain-fields.  They  stretched  out  before  his  eye  in  the  ten- 
der green  of  their  first  sprouting.  Seizing  the  scene  before 
him,  as  he  was  wont  to  do  for  figure,  parable,  or  theme,  he 
said,  "  Say  not  ye,  There  are  yet  four  months,  and  then  cometh 
harvest  ?  behold,  I  say  unto  you.  Lift  up  your  eyes  and  look  on 
the  fields  ;  for  they  are  white  already  to  harvest." 

Thus,  while  his  words  seemed  to  hold  on  to  the  ^asible  field 
of  young  grain,  his  meaning  had  really  glanced  off  to  the  tran- 
scendent field  of  moral  life.  We  saw  the  same  method  in  his 
reply  to  the  scribes  in  the  Temple,  and  we  shall  find  it  a  pe- 
culiarity of  his  genius,  which  appears  in  all  the  Gospels,  but 
which  John  alone  seems  to  have  reproduced  fully. 

The  woman  was  profoundly  aflfected  by  the  surprising  inter- 
view. She  hastened  back  to  her  friends,  not  to  boas^  a  tri- 
umph, but  to  call  them  out  to  see  a  man  '•  that  told  me  all 
things  that  ever  I  did."  There  are  certain  experiences  which 
stand  for  the  whole  of  one's  life.  It  may  be  a  great  love,  or 
a  great  defeat  and  mortification,  or  a  great  crime,  or  a  meas- 
ureless sorrow,  or  a  joy  lost  irrecoverably;  whatever  it  may 
be,  there  are  experiences  which  epitomize  our  whole  life,  and 
represent  to  our  memory  the  very  substance  of  life,  every- 
thing besides  being  incidental  and  accessorv.  And  he  that 
touches  that  hidden  life  seems  to  have  revealed  everything. 
This  woman's  domestic  career  had  been  such  as  to  show  the 
channel  in  which  her  nature  ran.  A  single  sentence  told  her 
that  the  stranger  knew  her  spirit  and  disposition.  It  was  not 
his  words  alone,  but  with  them  there  was  a  judicial  solemnity, 
a  piercing  eye  that  seemed  to  her  to  search  her  very  soul,  a 
manner  which  showed  that  he  sorrowed  for  her,  while  he  was 
exposing   her  career.     And   yet  she  had   Hved   unabashed   and 


^ 


^ 


-tf 


^ ^ -a 

184  ■         THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE    CHRIST. 

content  Avith  herself.  The  whole  narrative  shows  a  woman  not 
utterly  sunk  in  evil,  careful  yet  of  appearances,  —  a  woman 
quick  of  thought,  fertile  in  expedient,  and  possessed  of  much 
natural  force, — just  such  a  one  as  might  have  had  five  hus- 
bands. Love  had  not  taught  her  delicacy  or  pui'ity.  One  does 
not  think  pleasantly  of  five  successive  marriages,  and  is  not  sur- 
prised that  her  last  choice  had  not  even  the  pretence  of  mar- 
riage: Yet  this  shrewd  but  pleasure-loving  woman  could  not 
refrain  among  her  townspeople  from  crying  out,  "  Is  not  this 
the  Christ  ? "  Thereupon  the  citizens  rushed  out  "  and  came 
unto  him " ;  they  surrounded  him  with  entreaties  —  he  too  a 
Jew,  and  they  Samaritans  !  —  that  he  would  come  home  with 
them  and  tarr3\  For  two  days  he  stayed  with  them.  His 
works  and  his  discourses  are  not  recorded.  The  effects  of  them, 
however,  are  :  many  believed  ;  many  whose  curiosity  had  been 
excited  by  the  enthusiasm  of  the  woman  exchanged  curiosity 
for  a  moral  conviction  that  this  was  indeed  the  Christ,  the 
Saviour  of  the  world. 

We  thus  behold  Jesus  at  the  beginning  of  his  more  open  min- 
istry setting  himself  against  the  secularization  of  the  Temple 
and  the  superficial  morality  of  the  Pharisee,  turning  his  back 
upon  Jerusalem,  and  with  it  upon  the  strongest  national  pas- 
sion, namely,  the  sense  of  superlative  Jewish  excellence,  and 
the  bitter  hatred  of  Gentiles,  and,  above  all  other  Gentiles,  of 
the  Samaritans.  Patriotism  among  the  Jews  had  lost  all  kindli- 
ness, and  was  made  up  of  intense  conceit  and  hatred.  To  resist 
this  spirit,  according  to  all  worldly  calculations,  was  to  subject 
himself  and  his  cause,  in  the  very  beginning,  to  overwhelming 
ol)loquy.  Of  this  Jesus  could  not  have  been  ignorant.  He 
needed  no  experience  to  teach  him  that  his  countrymen,  by  a 
vicious  interpretation  of  their  Scriptures,  and  by  their  peculiar 
sufferings  in  captivity  and  under  the  yoke  at  home,  had  come 
to  regard  a  malign  and  bitter  hatred  of  all  Gentiles  not  only 
as  comjiatible  with  religion,  but  as  the  critical  exercise  of  it, 
as  the  fulfilment  of  its  innermost  spirit.  "  Thou  shalt  love  tliy 
neighbor,  and  hate  thine  enemy." 

Even  common  prudence,  the  simple  instinct  of  safety,  woidd 
have  inclined  a  mere  man  to  avoid  offending,  at  any  rate  on 
the  threshold,  the  strongest  impulses  of  the  most  religious  por- 


THE  LESSON  AT  JACOB'S    WELL.  185 

tion  of  his  people,  especially  when  it  needed  only  that  he 
should  take  the  right-hand  road  and  go  by  the  valley  of  the 
Jordan,  or  through  Perasa  to  GaUlee,  instead  of  going  through 
Samaria.  But  he  chose  to  go  through  Samaria.  When  a  wo- 
man doul)ly  abhorrent  to  the  precisionists  —  both  as  a  Samari- 
tan and  as  one  of  loose  morals  —  drew  near  him,  he  asked  the 
boon  of  water,  and  thus  gave  her  leave  to  enter  into  conver- 
sation with  him,  and  treated  her,  not  as  a  sinner,  but  as  a 
human  being,  all  the  more  needy  because  she  was  culpable  ; 
he  sent  his  disciples  to  buy  food  at  a  Samaritan  town,  though 
'•the  Jews  have  no  dealings  with  the  Samaritans";  and  finally, 
though  right  from  Jerusalem  and  from  the  Temple,  to  the  hor- 
ror of  every  right-minded  Pharisee  he  accepted  the  hospitalit}' 
of  the  Samaritans,  slept  under  their  roofs,  ate  at  their  tables, 
taught  in  their  streets,  and  altogether  treated  them  as  if  they 
were  as  good  as  Jews ! 

Here,  then,  "the  middle  wall  of  partition"  began  to  be 
broken  down.  In  the  Temple,  between  the  Court  of  the  Gen- 
tiles and  the  next  inner  court  described  in  our  last  chapter, 
was  a  marble  screen  or  curiously  carved  fence,  some  two  feet 
high,  be3'ond  which  no  Gentile  could  venture.  Had  a  Samari- 
tan put  his  foot  inside  of  that  "  wall  of  partition  "  he  would 
have  been  whirled  away  in  a  fury  of  rage,  and  stoned  to  death 
in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  But  Jesus  was  treading  down 
that  partition  wall.  He  that  was  himself  the  spiritual  coun- 
terpart of  the  Temple  was  admitting  Samaritans  within  the 
pale  of  Divine  sympathy  and  love. 

This  visit  in  Samaria  is  of  singular  imjxjrtance,  at  the  open- 
ing of  Christ's  ministry,  in  two  respects  :  first,  as  a  deliberate  re- 
pudiation and  rebuke  of  the  exclusiveness  of  the  Jewish  Church ; 
and  secondly,  and  even  more  significantly,  as  to  the  humane 
manner  of  liis  treatment  of  a  sinning  woman.  He  knew  her 
tainted  life.  He  knew  that  the  whole  world  smiles  upon  the 
act  of  degrading  a  woman,  and  that  the  whole  world  puts  the 
double  sin  upon  her  alone,  hardly  esteeming  her  paramour  guilty 
at  all,  but  counting  her  sin  utterly  unforgivable.  He  who  after- 
wards said,  "  The  publicans  and  harlots  shall  go  into  the  king- 
dom of  God  before  you,"  here  made  it  manifest  that  sin  does 
not  remove  the  sinner  from  Divine  sj'mpathy  and  love.     Christ 

^ -& 


c0- -^ 

186  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

treated  not  this  careless,  shrewd,  dexterous  woman  of  the  world 
with  scorn  or  bitter  rebuke.  He  made  himself  her  companion. 
That  which  was  Divine  in  him  had  fellowship  with  that  which 
was  human  in  her.  His  soul  went  out  to  hei",  not  as  a  fire  to 
consume,  but  as  a  purif^-ing  flame.  This  experience  was  a  fit 
prelude  to  his  now  opening  public  life.  It  was  the  text  from 
which  flowed  two  distinguishing  elements  of  his  ministr}^, — 
sympathy  for  mankind,  and  the  tenderest  compassion  for  those 
who  have  sinned  and  stumbled.  It  revealed  God's  heart,  sent 
the  prophetic  beam  of  reconciliation  to  each  soul,  and  was  the 
promise  of  that  one  family  in  Christ  Jesus  that  was  to  comprise 
every  nation  and  people  on  the  globe. 

It  has  been  objected  to  this  narrative,  that  it  is  not  probable 
that  Jesus  would  have  gone  into  such  profound  discourse  with  a 
woman,  a  stranger,  not  capable  of  understanding  his  meaning, 
and  wholly  unworthy,  in  any  point  of  view,  of  receiving  such 
attention.  It  ceitainly  is  not  prol)al)le,  if  we  reason  according 
to  the  common  tendencies  of  human  nature.  Meu  reserve  their 
fine  speeches  for  fine  men,  and  their  philosophy  for  philosojihers. 
Had  the  mission  of  Christ  followed  human  notions,  it  would  have 
differed  in  every  particular  from  its  real  history.  But  certainly 
this  elevated  doctrine  delivered  to  the  light-living  woman  of 
Samaria  is  in  strict  analogy  with  the  other  acts  of  Jesus.  Mod- 
ern critics  are  not  the  first  to  make  such  objections  to  his  career. 
His  contemporaries  reproached  him  for  this  very  thing,  namely, 
consorting  with  publicans  and  sinners,  and  he  made  the  noble 
reply,  "  I  came  not  to  call  the  righteous,  but  sinners,  to  repen- 
tance." If  to  any  this  familiarity  seems  discordant  and  repul- 
sive, they  have  occasion  to  look  well  to  their  own  hearts.  Such 
a  course  would  be  apt  to  offend  pride  and  spiritual  conceit ;  it 
could  not  but  harmonize  with  a  spirit  of  pure  benevolence. 

It  is  interesting  to  contrast  these  two  conversations  of  Jesus, 
that  Avith  Nicodemus  and  that  with  the  nameless  woman  of  Sa- 
maria. Nicodemus  was  a  man  of  rank  and  consideration ;  the 
woman  was  of  the  lower  order  of  an  outcast  people.  He  was 
cultivated,  reflective,  and  eminently  moral ;  she  was  iguorant, 
imspiritual,  and  unvirtuous.  Far  apart  as  they  were  in  all  ex- 
ternal proprieties,  both  of  them  had  been  caught  in  the  snare  of 
selfishness.     He  had  built  up  a  life  for  himself,  and  she  for  her- 

^ ^ 


a- -^ 

THE  LESSON  AT  JACOB'S    WELL.  187 

self.  He  was  selfish  through  his  intellectual  and  moral  nature, 
and  she  through  her  senses  and  passions.  Outwardly  they  were 
far  aj^art ;  as  a  member  of  society  she  fell  sadly  below  him  ;  but 
in  the  sight  of  God  both  Avere  alike  sinful.  It  was  not  needfid 
to  argue  this  with  her ;  conscience  already  condenuied  her.  But 
to  Nicodemus  it  was  necessary  to  say,  "  Ye  must  be  born  again." 
He  was  probably  more  surprised  at  the  truth  when  he  under- 
stood its  spiritual  meaning  than  when  he  stumbled  at  it  as  a 
pln'siological  proposition.  There  is  but  one  message  to  the  high 
and  to  the  low.  All  are  crude,  undeveloped,  sinfid.  Only  by 
the  Spirit  of  God  can  any  one  rise  to  that  true  life,  whose  fruit 
is  truth  and  purity,  joy  and  peace. 

We  are  not  to  claim  originality  for  the  truths  disclosed  in 
the  discourse  at  the  well.  The  spirituality  of  God,  the  feet  that 
religion  is  an  affection  of  the  soul,  and  not  a  routine  of  action,  — 
that  God  is  a  universal  God,  the  same  everywhere,  accessible  to 
all  of  every  nation  without  other  labor  than  that  of  lifting  up 
pure  thoughts  to  him,  and  that  he  dwells  in  heaven  yet  is  pres- 
ent everywhere,  so  that  no  one  need  seek  him  on  the  high 
mountain,  nor  in  any  special  temple,  but  may  find  him  near, 
in  their  very  hearts,  —  this  was  taught  by  all  the  prophets,  — 
by  Samuel  as  really  as  by  Isaiah,  by  Moses  as  clearly  as  by  his 
successors. 

But  the  knowledge  was  practically  lost.  If  the  clearer  minds 
of  a  few  discerned  it,  yet  it  was  to  the  many  indistinct,  being 
veiled,  and  even  buried,  by  the  ritual,  the  priestly  offices,  and 
the  superstitious  sanctity  given  to  temples  and  altars.  Men  felt 
that  in  some  mysterious  way  they  derived  a  fitness  to  approach 
God  l^y  what  the  altar,  the  priest,  or  the  influences  of  the  sacred 
place  did  for  them.  That  a  holy  God  demanded  purity  in  those 
who  approached  him,  they  knew ;  but  they  did  not  realize  that 
he  himself  purified  by  his  very  presence  those  who  came  to  him. 

The  filial  relationship  of  every  human  heart  to  God  did  not 
enter  the  moral  consciousness  of  men  until  they  learned  it  in 
Jesus  Christ.  In  him  every  man  became  a  priest,  his  heart  an 
altar,  and  his  love  and  obedience  the  onh'  oflerings  required. 
Men  were  loosed  from  the  ministration  of  ordinances,  of  rituals, 
of  days,  moons,  and  the  whole  parapliernalia  of  a  gorgeous  and 
laborious  external  system,  and  henceforth  the  poor,  the  mitaught, 

^ ^ 


c0- -^ 

188  THE   LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

the  sinful,  had  a  God  near  at  hand  and  easy  of  access.  He  was 
no  longer  to  be  regarded  as  a  monarch,  but  as  a  Father.  No 
longer  was  it  to  be  taught  that  he  reigned  to  levy  exactions, 
but  to  pour  boundless  treasure  out  of  his  own  heart  upon  the 
needy.  God  sought  those  who  before  sought  him.  The  priest 
stood  no  nearer  to  God  than  the  humblest  peasant.  God  was  as 
near  to  the  Magdalen  as  to  the  Virgin  Mary.  He  was  pre- 
sented to  the  heart  and  imagination  as  the  great  Helper. 

The  qualification  for  approach  to  him  was  simply  need.     They 
stood  nearest  to  Divine  mercy  that  needed  most. 


^ ^ 


a— 


-a 


CHAPTER  XII. 


EARLY  LABORS  IN  GALILEE. 

Bx\D  as  the  Samaritans  were  esteemed  to  be  by  the  Jews, 
they  excelled  the  people  of  Jerusalem  both  in  cordial  re- 
ception of  the  truth  and  in  hospitality.  There  is  no  narrative 
of  Christ's  words  or  actions  during  the  two  days  which  he  was 
persuaded  to  tarry  in  Samaria,  but  some  idea  may  be  formed  of 
his  teachings  from  the  conversations  held  with  Nicodemus  and 
with  the  Woman  at  the  Well.  The  lost  discourses  of  Jesus  were 
far  more  numerous  than  those  which  have  been  preserved,  and 
one  cannot  refrain  from  regret  that  so  much  inimitable  teach- 
ing served  but  the  purpose  of  the  hour,  and  passed  out  of  mind 
without  an  authentic  memorial. 

Leaving  Samaria,  he  bent  his  steps  toward  Galilee  as  toward 
a  shelter.  Although  it  was  like  drawing  near  to  his  home,  yet 
his  original  home,  Nazareth,  seems  never  to  have  had  attrac- 
tions for  him,  or  to  have  deserved  his  regard.  He  gave  as  a 
reason  for  not  returnmg  there,  that  a  "prophet  hath  no  honor 
m  his  own  country."  But  he  was  cordially  received  in  other 
parts  of  Galilee.  The  echo  of  his  doings  in  Jerusalem  had  come 
down  to  the  provinces.  Many  Jews  from  this  region  had  been 
at  Jerusalem,  and  had  both  heard  him  and  seen  his  works. 

What  was  probably  more  to  the  purpose,  they  had  heard  the 
opinions  of  the  chief  men  of  the  Temple,  who,  though  in  watch- 
ful suspense,  were  hoping  that  he  might  prove  to  be  the  longed 


ft 


W 


^ — ^ ^ -a 

190  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,  THE  CHRIST. 

for  Leader  and  Deliverer.  The  tacit  approval  of  the  Scribes 
and  Pharisees  of  Jerusalem  would  go  far  with  the  devout  pro- 
vincial Jews. 

Probably  attracted  by  the  cordiality  of  friends  in  Cana,  where 
he  had  wrought  his  first  miracle,  Jesus  repaired  thither.  But 
he  had  now  become  a  celebrity.  It  was  known  in  all  the  region 
that  he  had  returned  from  Jerusalem.  And  here  we  come  upon 
one  of  those  striking  scenes  of  which  we  shall  see  so  many 
during  his  career,  —  pictures  they  seem,  rather  than  histories. 
Out  of  the  nameless  crowd  some  striking  figure  emerges,  —  a 
ruler,  a  centurion,  a  maniac,  a  foreign  woman.  Under  the  eye 
of  Christ  these  personages  glow  for  a  moment  with  intense  in- 
dividuality, and  then  sink  back  into  obscurity.  No  history 
precedes  them ;  no  after  account  of  them  is  given.  Like  the 
pictures  which  the  magic  lantern  throws  upon  the  screen,  they 
seem  to  come  from  the  air  and  to  melt  again  into  nothing  ; 
and  yet,  while  they  remain,  every  line  is  distinct  and  every 
color  intense. 

Such  a  picture  is  that  afforded  by  the  courtier  of  Capernaum. 
A  '•  nobleman "  he  is  miscalled  in  the  English  version  ;  prob- 
ably he  was  only  a  house-officer  under  Herod  Antipas,  but  with 
some  pretensions  to  influence.  In  common  with  others,  he  had 
heard  of  Jesus ;  and,  as  rumor  always  exaggerates,  he  doubtless 
supposed  that  the  new  prophet  had  performed  more  cures  than 
at  that  time  he  had  done.  This  officer,  who  would  at  other  times 
have  listened  to  Jesus  only  as  a  fashionable  man  would  listen 
to  a  wandering  magician,  for  the  diversion  of  a  spare  moment, 
had  a  son  lying  at  the  point  of  death  with  a  fever,  —  that 
plague  of  Capernaum.  Sorrow  makes  men  sincere,  and  anguish 
makes  them  earnest.  The  courtier  sought  out  this  Jesus;  and 
as  in  critical  danger  the  proudest  men  are  suppliant  to  the 
physician,  so  he  "  besought  him  that  he  would  come  down  and 
heal  his  son."  To  heal  that  boy  was  easy ;  yet,  as  if  the  boon 
were  far  too  small  for  the  generosity  of  his  heart,  Jesus  pur- 
posed not  only  to  restore  the  child  to  his  parent,  but  to  send 
back  a  more  excellent  father  to  the  child.  And  so,  that  he 
might  awaken  his  better  nature  and  prepax'e  him  to  receive  the 
bounty,  not  as  a  matter  of  course  but  as  a  gift  of  God,  he 
dealt  with  his  petitioner  as  fond  parents  do  with  their  children, 

^ ^ 


a- ^ 

EARLT  LABORS  IN   GALILEE.  191 

when  they  excite  their  eagerness  and  their  pleasure  by  holding 
the  coveted  gift  above  their  reach,  and  cause  them  to  vibrate 
between  desire  and  doubt.  "Except  ye  see  signs  and  wonders, 
ye  will  not  believe." 

The  mere  thought  of  losing  his  boy  through  an  unbeliev- 
ing spirit  seemed  to  touch  the  father's  very  heart,  and  with- 
out protestations  he  showed  his  faith  by  bursting  out  into  an 
agony  of  imperious  persuasion:  "Sir,  come  down  ere  nij'  child 
die  ! " 

It  was  enough.  The  fountain  was  stirred.  Jesus  did  better 
than  he  was  asked.  Instead  of  going  to  Capernaum,  twenty- 
five  miles  distant,  his  spirit  darted  healing  power,  and  he  dis- 
missed the  believing  parent:  "Go  thy  way;  thy  son  liveth." 

That  the  father  believed  truly  is  plain  in  that  he  accepted 
the  word  without  a  doubt,  and  turned  homeward  with  all  haste, 
as  one  who  fears  no  evil.  It  was  about  one  o'clock  when  the 
conference  with  Christ  took  place ;  and  the  next  day  in  the 
afternoon,  as  he  was  on  the  road,  his  servants  met  him  with 
"Thy  son  liveth,"  and  upon  inquiry  they  informed  him  that 
"  yesterday  at  the  seventh  hour  the  fever  left  him."  This  is 
the  more  remarkable,  because  it  dejDarted  in  the  very  heat  and 
glow  of  the  day,  as  well  as  at  the  very  hour  when  Jesus  said, 
"  Thy  son  liveth."  From  that  moment  the  courtier  became  a 
believing  disciple,  and  with  him  his  whole  household.  Thus 
the  passing  sickness  of  one  is  blessed  to  the  spiritual  restora- 
tion of  a  whole  family.  Sorrows  are  often  precursors  of  mercy. 
Those  are  blessed  troubles  which  bring  Christ  to  us.  But  for 
that  boy's  deathly  sickness,  the  father  might  have  missed  his 
own  immortality.  By  it  he  saved  his  own  soul  and  the  souls 
of  his  household,  and  not  only  recovered  his  son,  but  dwells 
with  him  eternally.  For  "  himself  believed,  and  his  Avhole 
house."  ^ 

'  Many  commentators  have  supposed  that  thi^i  incident  is  the  same  as  that  recorded 
by  Matthew  and  Luke.  (Matt.  vlii.  5-13 ;  Luke  vii.  1  - 10.)  But  the  differences  are 
utterly  irreconcilable.  In  one  case  it  was  a  Roman  centurion,  in  the  otlier  an  officer  of 
Herod's  household,  that  solicited  Christ's  interference.  The  courtier's  son  was  sick  ;  the 
centurion's  servant.  The  centurion  sent  the  elders  of  the  Jews  to  Jesus ;  the  courtier 
came  himself.  The  courtier  besought  Christ  to  come  to  his  house,  but  his  child  was 
liealed  from  a  distance ;  Jesus  offered  to  go  to  the  centurion's  liouse,  but,  with  extreme 
liumility,  tliat  officer  declared  himself  unworthy  of  such  a  guest,  and  besought  him,  witli 
a  striking  military  figure,  to  Ileal  his  servant  by  a  word.     The  points  of  resemblance  are 

^ -^ 


c&- — ^ 

192  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE  CHRIST. 

But  the  time  must  come  when  Jesus  should  preach  in  the 
town  Avhere  his  childhood  and  much  of  his  early  manhood  were 
spent.  Not  long  after  this  act  of  mercy  to  the  servant  of  Herod, 
Jesus  came  to  Nazareth.  On  the  Sabbath  he  entered  the  syna- 
gogue familiar  to  him  from  his  youth.  The  scene  which  took 
place  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  in  this  period  of  his  his- 
tory. His  life  was  hnperilled  in  an  unlocked  for  uproar  Avhich 
broke  out  in  the  synagogue  when  he  was  conducting  the  service. 
For  the  Jewish  synagogue  had  no  ordained  and  regular  minis- 
ter ;  the  ruler,  and  in  his  absence  the  elders,  twelve  of  whom 
sat  upon  the  platform  where  the  reading-desk  was  placed,  called 
from  the  congregation  any  person  of  suitable  age  and  character 
who  coidd  read  Huently  and  expound  with  propriety  the  lessons 
of  the  Law  and  the  Prophets.^ 

few,  anil  such  as  mi^ht  easily  occur  where  so  many  niiracli'S  were  wrought.  The  diver- 
pences  arc  so  niarkeil  that  to  make  the  eases  one  anil  the  same  would  introduce  difficulties 
where  none  really  exist,  except  in  the  imagination  of  commentators. 

'  We  (juotc  a  brief  extract  from  Kitto's  Bihlical  Ci/clnprrilia  (Art.  "  Synagogue,"  by 
Christian  D.  Ginsburg),  to  ilhistrate  the  reading  of  the  Scriptures  by  Christ:  — 

"  To  give  unity  and  harmony  to  the  worship,  as  well  as  to  enable  the  congregation  to 
take  part  in  the  responses,  it  was  absolutely  necessary  to  have  one  who  should  lead  the 
worship.  Hence,  as  soon  as  the  legal  number  required  for  public  worship  had  assembled, 
the  ruler  of  the  synagogue,  or  in  his  absence  the  elders,  delegated  one  of  the  congregation 
to  go  up  Ix^fore  the  ark  to  conduct  divine  service. 

"  The  function  of  the  apostle  of  the  ecclesia  was  not  permanently  vested  in  any  single 
individual  ordained  for  this  ])urpose,  but  was  alternately  conferred  upon  any  lay  member 
who  was  supposed  to  possess  the  qualifications  necessary  for  ofl'ering  up  prayer  in  the 
name  of  the  congregation.  This  is  evident  from  the  reiterated  declarations  both  in  the 
Mishna  and  the  Talmud. 

"  Thus  we  are  told  that  any  one  who  is  not  under  thirteen  years  of  age,  and  whose 
garments  are  not  in  rags,  may  olTiciate  before  the  ark  ;  that  '  if  one  is  before  the  ark 
(ministers  for  the  congregation),  and  makes  a  mistake  (in  the  prayer),  another  one  is  to 
minister  in  his  stead,  and  he  is  not  to  decline  it  on  such  an  occasion.'  '  The  sages  have 
transmitted  that  he  who  is  asked  to  conduct  public  worship  is  to  delay  a  little  at  first, 
s.iying  that  he  is  unworthy  of  it;  and  if  he  does  not  delay  he  is  like  unto  a  dish  wherein 
is  no  salt,  and  if  he  delays  more  than  is  necessary  he  is  like  unto  a  dish  which  the  salt 
hath  spoiled.' 

"  How  is  he  to  do  it?  The  first  time  he  is  asked,  he  is  to  decline  ;  the  second  time, 
he  is  to  stir;  and  the  third  time,  he  is  to  move  his  legs  and  ascend  before  the  ark.  Even 
on  the  most  solemn  occasions  when  the  whole  congregation  fasted  and  assembled  with  the 
president  antl  vice-president  of  the  Sanhedrim  for  national  humiliation  and  prayer,  no 
stated  minister  is  spoken  of;  but  it  is  said  that  one  of  the  aged  men  present  is  to  de- 
liver a  penitential  address,  and  another  is  to  offer  up  the  solemn  prayers. 

"  It  was  afterwards  ordained  that,  '  even  if  an  elder  or  sage  is  present  in  the  congi-e- 
gation,  he  is  not  to  be  asked  to  officiate  before  the  ark,  but  that  man  is  to  be  delegated 
who  is  apt  to  olhciate,  who  has  children,  whose  family  are  free  from  vice,  who  has  a 
proper  beard,  whose  garments  are  decent,  who  is  acceptable  to  the  people,  who  has  a 

^ S 


re -a 

EARLY  LABORS  IN  GALILEE.  193 

On  the  morning  of  the  Sabbath  referred  to,  Jesus  was  called 
to  conduct  the  service.  After  the  liturgical  services  were  fin- 
ished, which  consisted  of  Psalms  and  prayers,  said  and  chanted 
responsively  by  the  reader  and  the  congregation,  he  proceed- 
ed to  read  the  lesson  for  the  day  from  the  Prophets.  It  so 
happened  that  Isaiah  was  read,  and  the  portion  for  the  day 
contained  these  remarkable  words,  mainly  as  rendered  in  the 
Septuagint : — 

"  Tlie  spirit  of  the  Lord  is  upon  me, 
Because  he  hath  anointed  me  to  preach  the  gospel  to  the  poor ; 
He  hath  sent  me  to  heal  the  broken-hearted, 
To  preach  deliverance  to  the  captives, 
And  recovering  of  sight  to  the  blind, 
To  set  at  liberty  them  that  are  bruised, 
To  preach  the  acceptable  year  of  the  Lord." 

To  understand  the  force  of  these  words,  one  must  read  the 
context  in  the  sixtieth  chapter  of  Isaiah,  and  consider  that  it 
is  the  culmination  of  all  the  glowing  promises  of  this  great 
prophet  respecting  the  Messiah.  When  Jesus  had  finished  read- 
ing and  had  shut  the  book,  there  seems  to  have  come  over  him 
a  change  such  as  his  countenance  often  assumed.  Before  he 
uttered  a  word  further,  such  was  his  appearance  that  "  the  eyes 
of  all  them  that  were  in  the  synagogue  were  fastened  on  him." 
Nor  was  the  wonder  decreased  when  he  broke  silence,  saying, 
"This  day  is  this  scripture  fulfilled  in  your  ears."  There  must 
have  been  not  only  great  majesty  in  his  manner,  but  also  great 
sweetness,  for  a  thrill  went  through  the  audience,  and  they  all 
"  bare  him  witness,  and  wondered  at  the  gracious  words  which 
proceeded  out  of  his  mouth  "  :  nothing  could  so  touch  the  Jew- 
ish heart  as  an  intimation  that  the  Messiah  was  near  or  was 
come. 

It  was  but  a  transient  feeling,  more  a  testimony  to  the  power 
of  him  who  was  teaching  than  to  their  own  docility ;  for  in  a 
moment  more  it  came  over  the  congregation,  that,  after  all,  this 
was  but  their  old  to^vnsman.  Their  vanity  was  wounded,  and 
the  more  vulgar  among  them  began  to  whisper,  "Is  not  this 
Joseph's  son  1 "  "  Is  not  this  the  carpenter's  son  ?  "  Others  con- 
good  and  amiable  voice,  who  understands  how  to  read  the  Law,  the  Prophets,  and  the 
Hagiographa,  who  is  versed  in  the  honiiletic,  legal,  and  traditional  exegesis,  and  who 
knows  all  the  benedictions  of  the  service.' " 

[ft^— ^ 


[&- ^ -^ 

194  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

firmed  it,  for  "  Is  not  his  motlier  called  Mary  ?  "  Everybody 
]s:new  him  and  his  family,  and  the  poor  way  in  which  they 
had  always  lived.  They  knew  "  his  brethren,  James  and  Joses 
and  Simon  and  Judas,  and  his  sisters."  Out  of  such  a  common 
set  it  was  not  likely  that  a  prophet  would  arise,  particularly 
when  it  was  known  how  little  education  Jesus  had  received. 
Where  did  he  get  his  learning  ?  How  should  our  plain  towns- 
man be  able  to  do  the  mighty  works  that  we  have  heard  of  his 
performing  ?     "  Whence  hath  this  man  this  wisdom  ? " 

Jesus  did  not  resent  their  unfavorable  speeches  concerning  his 
mother  and  her  family.  Had  he  chosen,  he  could  have  made 
his  townsmen  enthusiastic  in  his  behalf,  by  doing  some  "mighty 
work"  which,  making  Nazareth  famous,  would  give  every  one 
of  his  old  neighbors  some  participation  in  its  glory.  But  already 
pride  and  vanity  were  their  bane.  It  was  better  that  they 
should  be  mortified,  and  not  inflated  still  more.  Jesus  perceived 
their  spirit,  and  revealed  it  in  his  reply :  "  Ye  will  surely  say 
unto  me  this  proverb,  Physician,  heal  thyself:  whatsoever  we 
have  heard  done  in  Capernaum,  do  also  here  in  thy  country." 
That  is,  You  do  not  care  for  me,  or  for  the  truth  ;  Init  you  are 
jealous  of  a  neighboring  to\vn,  and  angry  because  I  do  not  make 
as  much  of  Nazareth  as  of  Capernaum.  You  think  that  I  am 
not  a  Divine  teacher  because  I  pass  by  my  own  town.  But 
thus  God  often  administers.  He  passed  by  the  whole  Jewish 
nation,  when,  during  tlie  great  famine,  by  his  prophet  Elijah  he 
held  communion  with  a  Phoenician  widow,  though  there  was 
many  a  Hebrew  widow  in  the  land.  Also  he  passed  by  the 
thousands  of  lepers  in  that  region,  and  healed  a  Syrian,  Naaman, 
who  was  at  that  very  time  chief  oHicer  to  a  heathen  king  holding 
Israel  in  subjugation. 

These  words  were  like  flame  upon  stubble.  The  love  of 
country  among  the  Jews  was  a  fanaticism.  It  carried  with  it 
a  burning  hatred  of  foreigners,  as  heathen,  which  no  prudence 
could  restrain.  Every  year  this  ferocious  spirit  broke  out,  and 
was  put  down  by  the  slaughter  of  hundreds  and  thousands  of 
Jews.  It  made  no  difference.  Like  the  internal  fires  of  the 
globe,  it  burned  on,  even  when  no  eruption  made  it  manifest. 
The  historical  facts  alleged  could  not  be  gainsaid  ;  but  the  use 
of  them  to  show  that  God  cared  for  other  nations,  even  at  the 

tfe- -^ 


_^]glcliiity  of^JCfAZJvJEOa TM  &  CAS^M'JFIMJ^M  , OAUXElS 


(>WS-lJ1lobmtAl  ' 


#- -^ 

EARLY  LABORS  IN  GALILEE.  195 

expense  of  the  Jews,  produced  a  burst  of  uncontrollable  fury. 
The  meeting  broke  up  in  a  fierce  tumult.  Jesus  was  seized  by 
the  enraged  crowd  that  went  shouting  through  the  street,  and 
hurried  toward  one  of  the  many  precipitous  ledges  of  the  moun- 
tainous hill  on  whose  sides  Nazareth  was  built,  that  they  might 
cast  him  down  headlong.  They  were  dragging  him  hastily  on- 
ward, when,  behold,  the  men  let  go  their  hold,  and  no  one  dared 
to  brave  his  eye.  "Passing  through  the  midst  of  them,  he  went 
his  way."  ^ 

It  may  seem  to  be  not  in  accordance  with  the  manifest  pru- 
dence of  Jesus  to  bring  on  an  attack  by  such  pungent  discourse 
in  his  own  town,  when  he  had  just  left  Judgea  on  account  of 
the  danger  of  collision  with  the  leading  men,  and  had  taken 
refuge  in  Galilee  as  being  safer,  and  as  affording  him  oppor- 
tunity to  unfold  the  great  spiritual  truths  which  carried  the 
world's  life  in  them.  Where  and  when  he  should  preach  were 
certainly  matters  of  discretion ;  but  tvhat  he  should  preach  could 
not  be  left  to  expediency.  That  his  truth  would  be  disagree- 
able to  his  hearers,  and  provoke  opposition,  never  deterred  him 
from  pungent  personal  discourse.  If  the  resistance  was  such  as 
to  be  likely  to  bring  his  ministry  prematurely  to  an  end,  he 
removed  to  some  other  place,  but  did  not  change  the  search- 
ing character  of  his  teaching.  The  outburst  of  wounded  vanity 
and  of  fanatical  religious  zeal  among  his  ignorant  and  turbulent 
fellow-townsmen  would  have  little  effect  outside  of  Nazareth. 
Such  an  uproar  in  Jerusalem  might  have  driven  him  from  Ju- 
daea, and  even  from  Palestine.     Nazareth  Avas  not  Jerusalem. 

Much  question  has  arisen  respecting  the  position  of  the  de- 
clivity toward  which  the  enraged  Jews  were  bearing  Jesus. 
From  the  modern  village,  it  is  two  miles  to  the  precipice  which 
overhangs  the  valley  of  Esdraelon.  Thomson  says  that  near  to 
this  precipice  his  guide  pointed  out  the  ruins  of  the  ancient 

'  This  scene  is  oiven  by  Luke  (iv.  16-30)  and  by  Jlatthew  (xiii.  53-58).  Many  com- 
mentators regard  these  as  separate  occasions,  placing  the  scene  as  given  by  Matthew 
much  later  in  the  history.  It  seems  scarcely  possible  that  two  visits  should  have  been 
made  to  Nazareth,  not  only  with  the  same  general  results,  but  with  questions  and  answers 
almost  identical ;  especially  that  the  proverb  used  by  Jesus  in  reply  to  liis  envious  towns- 
men should  serve  both  occasions.  There  are  no  difficulties  which  compel  the  harmonist 
to  make  two  separate  scenes  of  this  kind,  and  every  probability  requires  them  to  be  the 
same ;  though,  in  narration,  each  Evangelist,  as  would  be  natural,  gives  some  particulars 
omitted  by  the  other. 

[ft ^ 


[&- 


196 


THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE  CHRIST. 


village  of  Nazareth,  which  in  that  case  was  much  farther  south 
than  the  present  site.  But  the  point  is  not  essential.  Naza- 
reth is  built  upon  the  side  of  a  mountainous  ridge,  which, 
wherever  the  ancient  village  was  placed,  —  for  it  was  but  ft 
hamlet,  —  furnishes  enough  places  for  the  purpose  intended  by 
the  Nazarenes.  It  was  not  for  landscape  effect,  but  for  an  ex- 
ecution, that  the  crowd  were  looking  for  a  ledge,  and  twent}^ 
feet  was  as  good  for  such  a  purpose  as  fifty;  especially  if  the 
plunge  were  followed  by  stones,  —  a  method  of  terminating  a 
discussion  with  which  the  Jews  were  quite  familiar.^ 


-a 


II  (NiiznreOi). 


^ 


'  W.  H.  Dixon,  in  The  Ilnlij  Land,  gives  a  strikinfc  view  of  Nazareth :  — 
"  Four  miles  soutli  of  the  strong  Greek  city  of  Saphoris,  hidden  away  among  gentle 
hills,  then  covered  from  the  base  to  the  crown  with  vineyards  and  fi^-trees,  lay  a  natural 
nest,  or  basin,  of  rich  red  and  white  earth,  star-like  in  shape,  about  a  mile  in  width,  and 
wondrously  fertile.  Along  the  scarred  and  chalky  slope  of  the  highest  of  these  hills  spread 
a  small  and  lovely  village,  which,  in  a  land  where  every  stone  seemed  to  have  a  story,  is 
rcmaikable  as  having  liad  no  jjublic  history  and  no  distinguishable  native  name.   No  great 


# 


f 


a 


EARLT  LABORS  IN  GALILEE.  197 

If  we  regard  the  three  accounts  of  the  transaction  at  Nazareth 
as  refemng  to  the  same  visit,  it  is  plain  that  Jesus  did  not  leave 
the  village  immediately.  We  are  not  obliged  to  suppose  that 
he  escaped  from  the  murderous  hands  of  his  townsmen  by  a 
miracle.  Some  have  believed  that  he  became  invisible ;  or  that 
he  changed  his  appearance,  so  that  the  people  did  not  recog- 
nize him ;  or  that  he  melted  like  a  cloud  out  of  their  hands. 

The  language  of  Luke  is,  "  But  he,  passing  through  the  midst 
of  them,  went  his  way."  That  Jesus  at  times  assumed  an  air  of 
such  gi'andeur  that  men  were  awe-struek,  and  could  not  bear 
either  his  eye  or  his  voice,  we  know.  The  hardened  soldiers 
that  went  to  Gethsemane  to  arrest  him  fell  to  the  ground  when 
he  confronted  them.  There  are  many  instances  of  this  power 
of  his  person  to  make  men  quail.  (See  Chapter  VII.)  We  are 
inclined  to  the  supposition,  that  Jesus  assumed  a  manner  of 
such  authority  that  even  the  riotous  crowd  let  fall  their  hands, 
and  that  he  walked  quietly  away  from  out  of  their  midst. 

This  unhappy  visit  to  Nazareth  was  the  last.  He  could  not 
there  bestow  the  mercies  which  doubtless  he  would  have  con- 
ferred upon  a  spot  that  must  have  been  endeared  to  him  by 
a  thousand  associations  and  experiences  of  youth,  and  where, 
according  to  Mark,  his  sisters  yet  dwelt.  "  And  are  not  his  sis- 
ters here  with  us?"  (Mark  vi.  3.)  The  temper  of  this  people 
repelled  his  gracious  ofters  of  kindness.  It  is  true  that  "  he  laid 
his   hand  upon  a  few    sick   folk,  and   healed    them."      But  we 

road  led  up  to  this  sunny  nook.  Xo  traffic  came  into  it.  Trade,  war,  adventure,  pleasure, 
pomp,  passed  by  it,  flowing  from  west  to  east,  from  east  to  west,  along  the  Roman  road. 
But  the  meadows  were  aglow  with  wheat  and  barley.  Near  the  low  ground  ran  a  bolt 
of  gardens  fenced  with  loose  stones,  in  which  myriads  of  green  figs,  red  pomegranates,  and 
golden  citrons  ripened  in  the  summer  sun.  High  up  the  slopes,  which  were  lined  and 
planted  like  the  Rhine  at  Bingen,  hung  Tintages  of  purple  grapes.  In  the  plain  among 
the  corn,  and  beneath  the  mulberry-trees  and  figs,  shone  daisies,  poppies,  tulips,  lilies, 
anemones,  endless  in  their  profusion,  brilliant  in  their  dyes.  Low  down  on  the  hillside 
sprang  a  well  of  water,  bubbling,  plentiful,  and  sweet;  and  above  this  fountain  of  life,  in  a 
long  street  straggling  from  the  fountain  to  the  synagogue,  rose  the  homesteads  of  many 
shepherds,  craftsmen,  and  vine-dressers.  It  was  a  lovely  and  humble  place,  of  which 
no  poet,  no  ruler,  no  historian  of  Israel  had  ever  taken  note." 

It  need  scarcely  be  said,  that,  except  the  hills  and  terraces  and  the  fountain,  there 
is  nothing  now  in  or  about  Nazareth  that  could  have  been  there  in  Christ's  youth.  The 
legends  that  abound  respecting  his  infancy  and  youth  are  unworthy  of  a  moment's  con- 
sideration. Over  the  youth  of  Christ,  in  Nazareth,  there  rests  a  silence  far  more  impres- 
sive than  anything  which  the  imagination  can  fi'ame,  and  on  which  the  puerile  legends 
break  with  impertinent  intrusion. 

^ ^ 


<^ -Qi 

198  TUB  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

may  easily  believe  that  he  would  have  been  glad  to  make 
Nazareth  a  monument  of  benefactions.  A  year  had  passed  since 
his  baptism  by  John.  Already  he  had  experience  of  the  un- 
believing temi"»er  of  his  age  and  countrymen ;  but  there  was 
something  in  the  fierceness  and  repulsive  manners  of  his  fel- 
low-townsmen that  surpassed  all  ordinary  experience,  "  and  lie 
marvelled  because  of  their  imbelief" 

Capernaum  henceforth  became  his  home,  in  so  far  as  he  can 
be  said  to  have  had  a  home  at  all  during  the  year  now  before 
him,  and  which  was  the  great  period  of  his  activity.  For  the 
ministry  of  Christ  covered  but  a  little  more  than  two  years,  and 
his  chief  labor  was  compressed  into  a  single  one.^ 

From  this  time  Jesus  seems  either  to  have  lived  in  retire- 
ment for  about  two  months,  or,  if  he  carried  forwai'd  his  work 
of  teaching,  no  allusion  is  made  to  it  by  any  of  the  Evangelists. 
But  in  March  of  this  year  he  goes  again  to  Jerusalem,  proljably 
to  the  Feast  of  Purim,  —  a  feast  instituted  to  keep  in  remem- 
brance the  great  deliverance  which  the  Jews  in  captivity  re- 
ceived at  the  hands  of  Esther.^ 

This  visit  of  Jesus  to  Jerusalem  was  memorable,  not  only  for 
the  beneficent  miracles  of  mere}'  wrought  by  him  there,  but  for 
the  decided  alienation  of  the  Pharisees,  and  the  beginning  on 
their  part  of  that  deadly  hatred  which  little  more  than  a  year 
afterwards  accomplished  his  crucifixion. 

Jesus  was  not,  like  the  Rabbis,  accustomed  to  hold  himself 
apart  from  the  common  people,  and  to   show   himself  only  to 

'  "  The  ministry  of  our  Lord  would  seem  to  have  lasted  about  two  years  and  three 
months  i.  e.  from  his  baptism,  at  the  close  of  27  A.  D.  ("80  A.  U.  C  )  or  beginning  of 
28  A.  D.  to  the  last  Passover  in  30  A.  D.  The  opinions  on  this  subject  have  been  ap- 
parently as  much  divided  in  ancient  as  in  modern  times The  general  feeling  of 

antiquity  was,  that  our  Lord's  entire  ministry  lasted  for  a  period,  speaking  roughly,  of 
about  three  years,  but  that  the  more  active  part  ....  lasted  one." —  EUicott's  Lectures 
on  the  Life  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  (Boston,  1862,)  p.  145,  note. 

'  John  simply  says  that  it  was  a  "  feast  of  the  Jews."  It  might  be,  therefore,  the  Dedi- 
cation, the  Feast  of  Purim,  the  Passover,  the  Pentecost,  or  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles, 
which  tell,  respectively,  in  the  months  of  December,  March,  April,  IMay,  and  September. 
Tlie  best  authorities  are  irreconcilably  at  variance  as  to  which  "  feast "  is  meant ;  which- 
ever view  one  takes,  it  will  be  only  conjecture,  rather  than  probability.  Certaint}'  there 
is  none.  The  value  of  the  truths  of  the  gospel  is  not  affected  by  the  utter  confusion  of 
chronologists.  The  consecutive  order  of  many  of  the  events  in  Christ's  life  cannot  be 
precisely  determined  ;  but  this  does  not  change  their  moral  worth,  nor  cast  any  suspicion 
upon  their  authenticity. 


[fl- 


^ 


r 


■a 


EARLY  LABORS  IN  GALILEE. 


199 


admiring  disciples.  There  are  many  indications  that  he  moved 
about  inquiringly  among  the  poor,  and  made  himself  familiar 
with  their  necessities.  He  shortened  the  distance  between  him- 
self and  the  plain  common  people  as  much  as  possible.  It  was 
in  one  of  these  walks  of  mercy  that  he  came  one  Sabbath  day  to 
the  pool  of  Bethesda,  which  was  without  the  walls  of  Jerusa- 
lem and  near  to  the  Sheep  Gate ;  but  the  spot  is  not  now 
known.  That  which  has  for  ages  been  pointed  out  as  the  site 
of  Bethesda  —  a  dry  reservoir  on  the  north  of  the  Temple  wall 
—  is  now  given  up.  This  "  pool "  was  an  intermitting  fountain, 
whose  waters  were  supposed  to  be  healing,  if  used  at  the  time 
of  their  regurgitation.  Around  it,  for  the  convenience  of  the 
sick,  had  been  built  a  colonnade,  or  porch,  and  there  the  dis- 
eased and  the  crippled  awaited  their  chance  to  descend. 


^ 


It  was  to  just  such  places  that  Jesus  was  likely  to  come  ;  and 
on  this  Sabbath  dny  he  beheld  a  sufferer  unable  to  help  him- 
self and  without  friends  to  assist  him.     None   are  more  apt  to 


-ff 


^ -^ 

200  TIfE  LIFE   OF  JFSUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

be  selfish  than  the  sick.  Each  one  seeks  his  own  cure,  and  is 
indifterent  to  the  sufferings  of  others.  This  man  had  brought 
upon  himself,  by  some  course  of  dissipation,  the  evils  which 
afflicted  him  (John  v.  14) ;  but  it  was  enough  that  he  suffered. 
Jesus  saluted  him  with  the  question,  "  Wilt  thou  be  made 
whole  ? "  and  the  man,  not  knowing  the  stranger,  and  natu- 
rally supposing  that  he  was  asking  only  the  reason  of  his  de- 
laA'  in  entering  the  pool,  excused  himself  l)y  pleading  his  inability 
to  contend  with  the  scrambling  crowd  that  plunged  into  the 
waters  at  the  favored  moment.  As  yet  Jesus  was  but  little 
known.  He  had  neither  preached  in  Jerusalem,  nor  wrought 
miracles  in  any  such  public  way  as  to  bring  his  Divine  power 
clearly  before  men.  He  did  not,  therefore,  require  the  exer- 
cise of  faith  in  this  cripple  as  a  condition  of  mercy.  He  sur- 
prised him  with  tlie  peremptory  command,  "  Rise  !  Take  up 
thy  bed,  and  Walk  !  "  Then  came  the  sudden  thrill  of  health  ! 
The  cripple  had  been  bathed  in  no  fountain  stirred  by  an  angel. 
From  the  Fountain  of  life  had  fallen  on  him  the  healing  influ- 
ence.    His  amazement  of  joy  must  be  imagined. 

Behold  him  now  with  nimble  step  ascending  to  the  city !  He 
is  stopped.  What  is  it  ?  Why,  he  is  carrying  with  him  his  bed  ! 
He  has  forgotten  that  it  is  the  Sabbath.  "  It  is  not  lawful  for 
thee  to  carry  thy  bed."  Was  an  Oriental  bed,  then,  so  large 
as  to  make  an  uncomely  appearance  upon  the  man's  shoulder  ? 
No,  it  was  but  a  pallet,  to  be  spread,  like  a  blanket,  on  the 
ground.  Rolled  up,  it  was  a  bundle  less  than  a  soldier's  over- 
coat, and  could  be  carried  under  the  arm  without  inconvenience. 
But  it  was  the  Sabbatli  day.  A  Jew  might  play  on  the  Sab- 
bath, join  in  social  festivity,  grow  hilarious,  but  he  must  not 
work ! 

There  is  no  evidence  that  Jesus  did  not  keep  the  Sabbath 
day  as  it  was  enjoined  in  the  Law  of  Moses.  He  certainly  did 
not  trample  it  under  foot,  nor  in  any  Avay  undervalue  it.  It 
was  against  the  glosses  of  the  Pharisees  that  he  strove.  They 
had  added. to  the  Law  innumerable  explanations  which  were 
deemed  as  binding  as  the  original.  The  Sabbath  day  had  be- 
come a  snare.  By  ingenious  constructions  and  by  stretch  of 
words  the  Jews  had  turned  it  into  a  day  of  bondage,  and  made 
it  a  monument  of  superstitions.     No  Jew  must  kindle  a  fire  on 

. ^ 


a- -^ 

EARLY  LABORS  IN   GALILEE.  201 

that  day,  nor  even  light  a  candle.  A  conscientious  Jew  would 
not  sniift"  his  candle  nor  put  fuel  upon  the  fire  on  the  Sahbath. 
There  were  thirty-nine  principal  occupations  which,  with  all  that 
were  analogous  to  them,  were  forbidden.  "  If  a  Jew  go  forth 
on  the  Friday,  and  on  the  night  falls  short  of  home  more  than 
is  lawful  to  be  travelled  on  the  Sabbath  day  (i.  e.  two  thousand 
yards),  there  must  he  set  him  down,  and  there  keep  his  Sab- 
bath, though  in  a  wood,  or  in  a  field,  or  on  the  highway-side, 
without  all  fear  of  wind  and  weather,  of  thieves  and  robbers,  all 
care  of  meat  or  drink."  "  The  lame  may  use  a  staff,  but  the 
blind  may  not."  Not  being  indispensable,  for  a  blind  man  to 
carry  a  staff  would  come  under  the  head  of  carrying  burdens 
on  the  Sabbath.  "  Men  must  not  fling  more  corn  to  their  poul- 
try than  Avill  serve  that  day,  lest  it  may  grow  by  lying  still, 
and  the}^  be  said  to  sow  their  corn  upon  the  Sabbath."  "They 
may  not  carry  a  flap  or  fan  to  drive  away  the  flies."  That 
would  be  a  species  of  labor. 

It  was  not  enough  that  every  device  was  seized  to  prevent 
formal  or  honest  labor,  but  there  was  joined  to  this  rigor  an 
ingenious  dishonesty.  "  To  carry  anything  from  one  house  to 
another  is  unlawful ;  but  if  the  householders  in  a  court  should 
join  in  some  article  of  food  and  deposit  it  in  a  certain  place, 
the  whole  court  becomes  virtually  one  dwelling,  and  the  inmates 
are  entitled  to  carry  from  house  to  house  whatever  they  please." 
"  It  is  unlawful  to  carry  a  handkerchief  loose  in  the  pocket ;  but 
if  they  pin  it  to  the  pocket,  or  tie  it  round  the  waist  as  a 
girdle,  they  may  carry  it  anywhere."  Many  of  the  things  which 
a  Jew  would  by  no  means  sufter  himself  to  do  on  the  Sabbath, 
such  as  putting  fuel  on  the  fire,  or  performing  tasks  of  cook- 
ing, he  would  permit  a  Gentile  servant  to  do  for  him,  if  he 
were  rich  enough  to  employ  one,  inasmuch  as  the  Gentiles  were 
not  under  the  Law  !  At  the  very  time  that  the  Eabbis  were 
devising  restrictions  on  the  one  side,  they  were  shrewdly  out- 
witting the  Law  by  cunning  devices  on  the  other.  "  A  Sab- 
bath-day's journey "  was  two  thousand  2:)aces,  measured  from 
one's  domicile.  But  by  depositing  food  at  the  end  of  the  first 
two  thousand  paces  on  a  previous  day,  and  calling  that  place  a 
domicile,  they  were  suffered  to  go  forward  another  Sabbath-day's 
journey.     Thus  superstitious  rigor  led  to  evasions  and  hypocrisy. 

^ ^ 


[&- -a 

202  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,   THE  CHRIST. 

But  this  strictness  was  not  exercised  for  the  sake  of  keeping 
the  Sabbath  as  a  day  of  moral  instruction  and  of  devotion.  For, 
though  the  Temple  service  was  more  full  on  that  day  than  on 
ordinary  days,  and  there  were  religious  services  in  the  syna- 
gogues, yet  the  Sabbath  was  observed  on  tlie  whole  as  a  day 
of  recreation  and  social  enjoyment.  Feasts  were  given,  and  a 
large  hospitality  was  exercised.  The  Jewish  Sabbath,  from  the 
davs  of  Moses,  and  in  its  original  intent  and  spirit,  was  as  much 
a  day  of  social  pleasure  as  of  religious  observance.  Boisterous 
hilarity  was  disallowed,  and  all  secular  work,  that  is,  toil  for 
profit  of  every  kind,  was  a  capital  oflcnce.  It  was  upon  this 
clause  that  the  Pharisaic  ingenuity  had  run  into  fantastic  ex- 
travagances, and  a  day  originally  a])pointcd  for  reasons  of  mercy 
had  become  a  burden  and  an  oppression. 

The  fortunate  man  wlio  had  been  healed  did  not,  when  ques- 
tioned, even  know  to  whom  he  was  indebted.  "  It  is  the  Sab- 
bath day,"  said  the  pious  townsmen ;  "  it  is  not  lawful  for  thee 
to  carry  thy  bed."  But  his  better  nature  told  him  that  one 
who  could  perform  such  a  miracle  upon  him  .stood  nearer  to 
God,  and  was  more  fit  to  be  obeyed,  than  the  men  of  the  Tem- 
ple. Bravely  he  replied,  "  He  that  made  me  whole,  the  same 
said  unto  me,  Take  up  thy  bed,  and  walk."  But  aftenvard,  hav- 
ing met  Jesus  in  the  Temple,  he  let  it  be  knoAATi  who  it  was 
that  had  healed  him.  The  excitement  ran  high.  So  enraged 
were  the  Jews,  that  they  did  '•  persecute  Jesus,  and  sought  to 
slay  him."  Without  doubt,  the  excitement  and  uproar  took  place 
in  the  Temple  court. 

It  has  been  thouglit,  and  Avith  reason,  that  Jesus  was  arraigned 
before  the  Sanhedrim,  if  not  formall\-,  yet  in  a  hastily  convoked 
meeting.  The  discourse  recorded  by  John  (v.  17-47)  could 
scarcely  be  the  flow  of  an  uninterrupted  speech.  It  bears  all 
the  marks  of  a  controversy.  It  is  broken  up  into  disconnected 
topics,  as  if  between  them  there  had  been  arguments  and  an- 
swers, or  some  taunting  retorts,  although  the  Evangelist  has  not 
presented  any  part  of  the  disputation,  except  the  points  of  the 
Lord's  replies.  To  the  charge  of  breaking  the  Sabbath  by  work- 
ing a  miracle,  Jesus  answers  with  an  allusion  to  God's  ceaseless 
activity  on  all  days  alike  ;  which,  even  were  it  not  the  highest 
truth,  w-ould  be  the  noblest  poetry,  and  not  the  less  emphatic 

^ ^ 


-a 


EARLY  LABORS  IN  GALILEE.  203 

because  so  condensed,  —  '•  My  Father  uorketli  hitherto,  and  I 
^york." 

Why  should  I  forbear  on  the  Sabbath  to  do  good  ?  Does  the 
sun  cease  shhimg  ?  Do  rivers  stand  still  ?  Do  the  grasses  not 
groAv,  and  fruits  ripen,  and  birds  sing  ?  Does  Nature  keep  Sab- 
bath ?  Is  not  God  forever  going  on  in  ceaseless  benefaction, 
without  variableness  or  shadow  of  turning?  Is  it  not  lawful 
for  children  to  be  born  on  the  Sabbath  ?  for  medicine  to  carry 
forward  the  cure  ?  for  the  weak  to  grow  strong  ?  Throuo-h  all 
God's  realm  the  Sabbath  is  a  day  of  active  merc3',  and°  why 
should  I  refuse  a  work  of  benevolence  ? 

The  reply  was  unanswerable.     It  was  a  sublime  appeal  from 
the  rescripts  and   traditions   of  man  to   the  authority  of  God. 
Jesus  appealed  from  custom  to  nature.     Evading  this  replj-,  they 
seized  upon  the  fact  that  he  had  called  God  his  Father, 'thus, 
as  they  said,  "making   hunself  equal  with  God."    .They' broke' 
out  upon  him  with  truculent  fury,  and  sought  to  tear  him  in 
pieces.     Yet  by  some  means  the  stonn  was  quieted.     The  dis- 
course is  remarkable  in  every  respect,  but  in  nothing  more  than 
the  direct  assumption  of  Divine  authority.     He  rises  above  all 
conventional  grounds  and  above  all  human  sanctions.     He  de- 
clares that  he  .acts  with  the  direct  authority  of  God.     "The  Son 
can  do  nothing  of  himself,   but  what  he  seeth  the  Father  do." 
Instead  of  explanation  and  apology  to  his  accusers,  Jesus  boldly 
claims  their  submission  to  his  authority  !     "  The  Father  judo-eth 
no  man,  but  hath  committed  all  judgment  to  the  Son :  that  all 
men  should  honor  the  Son,   even  as  they  honor  the  Father." 
He  now  drops  the  title  Sox  of  Max,  which  he  had  always  used 
among  the  common  people,  because  it  drew  him  so  near  to  them 
and  made  them  and  him  of  one  kin,  and  for  the  first  time  calls 
himself  the  Sox  of  God.     "  The  hour  is  coming,  and  now  is, 
when  the  dead  shall  hear  the  voice  of  the  Sox  of  God."     As 
it  was  a  question  of  authority  before  the  Sanhedrim,  he  places 
himself  on  grounds  above  all  reach  of  competition  or  of  compar- 
ison.    He  not  only  does  not  acknowledge  their  right  to  control 
his  conscience,  but  he  declares  that  he  will  hold  them  and  all 
mankind  responsible  to  himself     "  The  hour  is  coming,  in  the 
which  all  that  are  in  the  graves  shall  hear  His  voice,  and  shall 
come  forth;    they  that  have   doue  good,  unto  the  resurrection 


^ 


-ff 


[fl- — -a 

204  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

of  life ;  and  they  that  have  clone  evil,  unto  the  resiu'rection  of 
damnation." 

The  members  of  the  court  must  have  looked  upon  him  with 
wonder  as  well  as  with  rage.  He  disowned  the  whole  value  of 
that  system  of  authority  on  which  their  pride,  their  power,  and 
their  ambition  were  built.  He  refused  to  stand  before  them  as 
a  culprit,  or  to  be  catechised  as  a  scholar.  He  soared  to  the 
highest  heaven.  He  placed  himself  beside  God.  He  clothed 
himself  with  Divine  authority.  He  judged  his  judges,  and  con- 
demned the  highest  tribunal  of  his  people.  Instead  of  apolo- 
gizing for  his  deeds,  or  even  explaining,  he  arraigned  the  San- 
hedrim. He  reminded  them  that  for  a  time  they  had  been 
disposed  to  accept  John  as  a  prophet ;  "  Ye  were  willing  for  a 
season  to  rejoice  in  his  light."  John  also  was  now  a  witness 
for  Jesus.  But  no  man  could  be  an  adequate  witness  of  his 
nature  and  authority.  Only  God  could  authenticate  these.  By 
his  mii'acles  he  showed  that  God  had  borne  witness  to  hiin.  He 
rebuked  them  for  gross  ignorance  of  those  Scriptures  in  which 
it  was  their  pride  and  boast  that  they  Avere  profoundly  versed. 
He  brings  home  to  them  their  worldliness,  their  mutual  flatr 
teries,  their  ambitions,  their  poverty  of  love,  their  wealth  of 
selfishness. 

Overawed,  their  tumultuous  anger  died,  and  Jesus  went  forth 
from  this  first  encounter  with  the  rulers  of  his  people  safe  for 
the  present,  but  a  marked  man,  to  be  watched,  followed,  en- 
trapped, and,  when  the  favorable  moment  should  come,  to  be 
slain. 

We  must  not  suppose  that  the  Pharisees  were  moved  to  this 
controversy  with  Jesus  from  any  moral  regard  for  the  Sabbath. 
It  was  simply  a  question  of  power.  To  attack  what  may  be 
called  theii-  theology  of  the  Sabbath  was  to  attack  the  most 
salient  point  of  their  religious  authority.  If  they  might  be 
safely  defied  before  the  people  on  this  ground,  there  was  no 
use  in  trying  to  maintain  their  authoi"ity  as  leaders  on  any 
other.  They  could  not  allow  themselves  to  look  upon  Christ's 
merciful  deed  in  the  light  of  humanity.  It  was  to  them  a 
political  act,  and  in  its  tendency  a  subversion  of  their  teach- 
ing, of  their  influence,  and  of  their  supreme  authority. 

No  party  will  yield   up  its  power  willingly ;    and  a  religious 

^ ■ 


cS- 


-^-a 


EARLT  LABORS  IN   GALILEE. 


205 


party  less  willingly  than  any  other,  because  it  believes  itself  to 
represent  the  Divine  will,  and  construes  all  attack  upon  itself 
as  resistance  to  Divine  authority.  Its  moral  sense  is  offended, 
as  well  as  its  avarice  and  ambition.  There  is  no  bitterness  so 
intense  as  that  which  comes  when  the  moral  feelings  are  cor- 
rupted into  alliance  with  men's  passions.     That  is  fanaticism. 

Although  there  is  something  admirable  in  this  scene, a  sin- 
gle man  confronting  the  false  spirit  of  the  age,  the  customs  of 
his  countrymen,  and  the  active  power  of  their  government, 
—  yet  it  has  its  sadness  as  well.  Here  began  the  death  of 
Jesus.  From  this  hour  the  cross  threw  its  shadow  upon  his 
l)ath. 

There  were  two  other  conflicts  on  this  very  question  which 
occurred  about  this  time ;  and  though  there  is  nothing  by  which 
we  may  fix  the  place  where  they  occurred,  some  placing  it  near 
Jerusalem,  and  some,  with  more  probability,  in  Galilee,  they 
may  be  fitly  grouped  and  considered  together,  for  they  all  be- 
long to  about  the  same  period  of  Christ's 
ministry,  and  they  are,  interiorly,  parts 
of  the  same  conflict. 

This  first  collision  settled  the  policy 
of  the  Temple  party.  Word  went  out 
over  all  the  land  to  their  active  par- 
tisans that  Jesus  was  to  be  watched. 
Wherever  he  went  from  this  time,  his 
steps  were  dogged  by  spies;  skulking 
emissaries  listened  for  some  indictable 
speech  ;  and  everywhere  he  found  the 
Pharisees  in  a  ferment  of  malice. 

In  one  of  his  circuits,  whether  in  Ju- 
dasa  or  in  Galilee  is  not  stated,  he  was 
on  a  Sabbath  day  passing  through  the 
fields.  The  barley  harvest  was  near  at 
hand.  The  grain  was  turning  ripe.  His 
disciples,  being  hmigry,  began  to  rub 
out  the  ripe  kernels  from  the  barley- 
heads  and  to  eat  them.  According  to 
the  refinements  of  the  Pharisees,  this  was  equivalent  to  harvest- 
iucj.     Jesus  was  permitting  his  disciples  to  reap  grain-fields  on 


SYRIAN   AND   EGYPTIAN 
WHKAT-EAIiS. 


-ff 


a- = -ep 

206  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

the  Sabbath  I  To  be  sure,  it  was  but  a  few  heads  that  were 
phicked,  but  harvesting  did  not  depend  on  much  or  httle.  One 
grain  gathered  on  the  Sabbath  had  the  moral  character  of  har- 
vest labor! 

Does  this  seem  impertinent  and  impossible  ?  Not  if  one  con- 
siders that  the  Pharisee  forbade  men  to  walk  on  the  grass  on 
the  Sabbath,  because  in  so  doing  some  seeds  might  be  crushed 
out  under  their  feet,  and  that  would  be  threshing!  No  man 
must  catch  a  flea  on  the  Sabbath,  for  that  would  be  hunting! 
No  man  on  the  Saljbath  must  wear  nailed  shoes,  for  that  would 
be  bearing  burdens ! 

To  make  the  criminality  of  Jesus  sure,  it  was  necessary  to  call 
attention  to  the  conduct  of  his  disciples,  and  secure  his  ap- 
proval of  it.  Taking  food  that  did  not  belong  to  them  was  not 
an  offence  under  the  laws  of  Moses,  if  it  was  done  to  satisfy 
hunger.'  The  allegation  was,  therefore,  "  Thy  disciples  do  that 
which  is  not  lawful  to  do  upon  the  Sabbath  day''  He  first  shapes 
a  reply  that  a  Pharisee  would  feel,  and  then  he  places  the  Sab- 
bath on  the  broadest  ground  of  humanity. 

King  David,  the  pride  and  glory  of  the  Jews,  was  never  con- 
demned for  breaking  a  law  which  was  regarded  with  extraor- 
dinary sacredness.  Driven  by  excess  of  hunger,  when  fleeing 
from  Saul,  he  entered  the  house  of  God,^  deceived  the  high- 
priest,  seized  and  ate  the  consecrated  bread,  taking  it,  as  it 
were,  from  before  the  very  face  of  God.  To  save  his  life  he 
committed  an  act  of  sacrilege,  and  yet  was  never  deemed  guilty 
of  the  sin  of  sacrilege.  But  it  was  not  necessary  to  refer  to 
history.  Right  before  their  ej^es,  in  their  own  day,  was  the  law 
of  the  Sabbath  broken,  and  that  too  by  their  holiest  men.  Did 
not  the  priests  work  every  Sabbath  in  the  Temple,  slaying  sheep 
and  oxen,  drawing  water,  cleaving  wood  and  carrying  it  to  the 
altar,  kindling  fires,  and  all  this,  not  in  rare  emergencies,  but 
habitually  ?  If  the  Pharisaic  rule  of  the  Sabbath  were  bind- 
ing, what  should  be  said  of  men  who  every  week  chose  the 
holiest  place,  in  the  most  public  manner,  to  violate  the  Sab- 

'  "Wien  thou  comest  into  thy  neighbor's  vineyard,  then  thou  mayest  eat  grapes  thy 
fill,  at  thine  own  pleasure;  but  thou  shall  not  put  any  in  thy  vessel.  When  thou  comest 
into  the  standing  corn  of  thy  neighbor,  then  thou  mayest  pluck  the  ears  with  thine  hand ; 
but  thou  shall  not  move  .1  sickle  unto  thy  neighbor's  standing  corn.''  —  Deut.  xxiii.  24,  25. 

'  1  Sam.  xxi.  1  -(i. 

. -— — S 


a- -^ 

EARLY  LABORS  IN   GALILEE.  207 

bath  by  hard  work  ?  No  reply  was  made  to  these  words,  for 
the  best  of  reasons. 

They  could  not  deny  that  the  rulers  of  the  Temple  had 
avithority  to  permit  the  priests  to  work  on  the  Sabbath.  But 
Jesus  claimed  that  he  was  himself  superior  in  authority  to  the 
Temple.  "  In  this  place  is  one  greater  than  the  Temple."  To 
the  Jews  that  Temple  was  the  symbol  of  their  history,  their 
religion,  and  their  civil  law.  It  was  the  nation's  heart.  When 
Jesus  declared  himself  to  be  superior  to  the  Temple  itself,  it 
could  be  imderstood  as  nothing  less  than  grasping  at  sover- 
eignty ;  and  as  it  was  an  affirmation  in  justification  of  an  as- 
sault upon  the  most  sensitive  part  of  their  authority,  it  could 
be  understood  as  nothing  less  than  treading  under  foot  the  San- 
hedrim. Was  it,  then,  one  of  those  moments  in  which  his  heav- 
enly nature  illumined  his  person,  and  filled  all  that  looked  on 
with  admiration  and  amazement?  If  not,  hoAv  can  we  account 
for  it  that  there  was  no  protest,  no  outburst  of  wrath  ? 

This  imperial  mood  was  significant,  too,  because  it  disclosed 
itself  in  the  beginning  of  his  conflict  with  the  Temple  party,  in 
the  very  calmness  and  morning  of  his  more  open  ministry.  The 
same  sovereignty  of  spirit  was  more  and  more  apparent  to  the 
end.  Its  assumption  was  not,  as  Renan  imagines,  the  final  effect 
of  continuous  conflicts  with  the  Jews  :  it  belonged  to  Jesus  from 
the  beginning.  His  life  answered  to  either  title.  Son  of  Man, 
or  Son  of  God.  In  the  spirit  of  sovereignty  he  claimed  au- 
thority to  repeal  the  legislation  of  the  Pharisees  respecting  the 
SablDath,  to  restore  the  Law  to  its  original  simjalicity,  and  to 
leave  to  the  intelligent  moral  sense  of  men  what  things  were 
merciful  and  necessary  on  the  Sabbath. 

It  is  remarkable  that  there  should  be  a  third  conflict  of  the 
same  kind  at  aljout  the  same  time.  It  shows  that  the  Pharisees 
had  accepted  the  challenge,  and  were  determined  to  make  an 
open  issue  with  Jesus  on  the  subject  of  Sabbath-keeping.  On 
a  Sabbath  not  long  after  the  scene  just  now  narrated,  the  people 
were  gathered  in  a  synagogue, —  where  and  in  what  one  is  not 
mentioned.  Christ  was  teaching  the  people.  There  was  among 
them  a  man  whose  right  arm  was  paralyzed.  The  Pharisees 
were  there  watching.  They  knew  that  Jesus  would  be  tempted 
by  his  humanity  to  break  the  Pharisaic  Sabbath  by  healing  him. 

^ ^ 


tp -^ 

208  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

Tliey  hinted  at  the  man's  jn-esence  by  asking  Jesus,  "Is  it  law- 
ful to  heal  on  the  Sabbath  day?"  Before  answering  them,  Jesus 
called  to  the  jDaralytic,  "  Rise  up,  and  stand  forth  in  the  midst." 
Then,  turning  to  his  malicious  questioners,  he  put  back  to  them 
their  own  question,  lifted  out  of  its  technical  form,  and  placed 
upon  moral  grounds :  "  Is  it  lawful  on  the  Sabbath  days  to  do 
good,  or  to  do  evil  ?  to  save  life,  or  to  destroy  it  ? "  They  did 
not  dare  to  answer  when  the  case  was  thus  brought  home  to 
every  man's  common  sense.  But  Jesus  was  willing  to  meet  the 
question  both  on  technical  and  on  moral  grounds.  The  Phari- 
sees permitted  a  shepherd  to  extricate  from  peril  one  of  his 
sheep  on  the  Sabbath  day.  Seizing  that  permission  to  property 
interests,  Jesus  contrasted  witii  it  their  shameless  indifference 
to  humanity.  "  How  much  then  is  a  man  better  than  a  sheej)  ? 
Wherefore  it  is  lawful  to  do  well  on  the  Sabbath  daj's." 

This  scene,  slight  as  it  seems  in  the  rehearsal,  went  to  the 
very  heart  of  Jesus.  To  him  nothing  seemed  so  repulsive  as  the 
soul  of  an  intelligent  man  coiled  u])  in  its  selfishness  and  strik- 
ing at  the  poor  and  weak.  Sins  of  excess,  inibridJed  passions, 
vices  and  crimes,  he  rebuked  with  much  of  pity  as  well  as  of 
sternness;  but  intelligent  inhumanity  roused  his  utmost  indigna- 
tion. This  particular  case  was  peculiarly  offensive.  He  turned 
upon  his  questioners  an  eye  that  none  could  bear.  Calm  it  was, 
but  it  burned  like  a  flame.  There  is  no  expression  so  unen- 
durable as  that  of  incensed  love.  It  is  plain  that  he  searched 
their  countenances  one  by  one,  and  brought  home  to  them  a 
sense  of  their  meanness.  "And  when  he  had  looked  round 
about  on  them  with  anger,  being  grieved  for  the  hardness  of 
their  hearts,  he  saith  unto  the  man.  Stretch  forth  thine  hand." 
It  was  healed. 

Now  came  the  rage  of  his  baffled  enemies.  They  "  were  filled 
with  madness."  They  drew  together  in  counsel ;  they  began  to 
call  in  as  auxiliaries  the  venal  scoundrels  that  hung  about 
Herod's  court,  seeking  "  how  they  might  destroy  him,"  combining 
political  jealousy  with  ecclesiastical  bitterness.  As  yet,  their 
malice  was  powerless.     His  hour  had  not  come. 

"We  have  here,  in  a  more  developed  form  than  had  thus  far 
appeared  in  the  life  of  Jesus,  the  aggressiveness  of  love.      He 

^ ji 


f- — =: 

JtlARLF  LABORS  IN   GALILEE.  209 

had  shown  himself  to  be  personally  fall  of  sympathy  and  kind- 
ness ;  but  now  he  makes  benevolence  the  criterion  of  justice 
and  the  test  of  religion.  He  begins  to  bring  the  institutions, 
the  customs,  and  the  maxims  of  his  countrymen  to  the  criti- 
cism of  the  law  of  kindness.  It  is  the  first  scene  in  which  we 
behold  love  equipped  for  conflict. 

Whatever  importance  attached  to  the  day  in  their  contro- 
versy, the  Sabbath  was  a  secondary  matter,  "it  was  not  a  ques- 
tion whether  it  was  divine,  nor  whether  it  should  be  abrogated, 
nor  even  how  it  should  be  kept;  it  was  the  spirit  of  inhum°inity', 
the  hard-heartedness  of  the  religious  chiefs,  the  unsvmpathetic 
and  teasing  spirit  with  which  they  administered  religious  afiiiirs 
that  was  to  be  judged.  It  was  more  than  a  disput'e  about  an 
ordinance ;  it  was  a  conflict  between  kindness  and  unmerciful- 
ness,  between  fraternal  sympathies  and  official  authority,  be- 
tween mercy  and  relentless  superstition. 

When  we  hear  Jesus  saying,  "I  will  have  mercy,  and  not 
sacrifice,"  and  know  that  those  words  were  applied"  to  the  ad- 
ministration of  law,  we  feel  that  a  new  interpretation  of  justice 
has  come.  The  Divine  administration  of  all  laws  is  toward 
mercy.  Henceforth  humanity  judges  them,  and  gives  them  per- 
mission to  be.  Pain  and  penalty  are  not  abolished,  but  they  are 
no  longer  vindictive  ;  they  are  for  restraint,  correction,  and  pre- 
vention. Justice  is  love  purging  things  from  evil  and  makincr 
them  lovely.  ° 

The  protests  of  Jesus  against  the  Pharisaic  observance  of  the 
Sabbath  must  not  be  regarded  as  discountenancing  the  day  it- 
self as  a  Divine  ordinance,  nor  even  as  criticising  the  original 
methods  of  its  observance  enjoined  by  Moses.  He  set  his°flice 
against  the  unfeeling  use  which  the  Pharisees  of  his  time  made 
of  It.  It  was  the  perversion  of  a  day  of  mercv  that  he  resisted 
In  reasoning  the  case,  Jesus  laid  down  a  principle  which  afiects 
all  human  institutions  of  every  kind:  "  The  Sabbath  was  made  for 
man,  and  not  man  for  the  Saljbathr 

Institutions  and  laws  have  no  sacredness  in  themselves.  They 
have  no  rights  as  against  the  real  welflire  of  men.  Laws  are 
servants,  not  masters.  No  law  must  rule  unless  it  will  serve. 
But  one  thing  on  earth  is  intrinsically  sacred,  and  that  is  man, 
and  he  because  he   is    God's  son  and  the  heir  of  immortality' 

^= ^ 


^ 


[fi-^ ^ 

210  THE  LIFE   OF  JE^iVS,    THE   CHRIST. 

His  natui-e  is  sacred.  Amidst  all  his  sins,  crimes,  and  corrup- 
tions, there  is  still  within  him  the  soul  that  came  of  God,  for 
■whose  sake  the  whole  round  of  nature  is  ordained;  —  and  how 
much  more  civil  laws  and  ecclesiastical  ordinances  !  The  state 
was  made  for  man,  not  man  for  the  state. 

The  welfiire  of  the  state  depends  upon  the  sacrcdncss  of  the 
individual  citizen.  The  tendenc}^  has  been  to  build  up  the  state 
at  all  hazard, —  to  sacrifice  the  citizen  to  public  good,  as  if  the 
good  of  the  whole  demanded  the  sacrifice  of  its  units.  Men 
may  offer  themselves  up  in  great  emergencies,  revolutions,  wars, 
etc.,  but  in  the  ordinary  tiow  of  life  the  strength  and  happiness 
of  the  unit  will  detennine  the  prosperity  and  power  of  the  ag- 
gregate. 


C^-. ___ ^ ^_^. -^ ^ 


f 


■a 


PLAIN    (H     LVllVLl,     VMJ    JLLI  L    KAI  h  VI 


CHAPTER    XIII 


A  TLME   OF  JOT. 


THUS  far  we  have  seen  only  the  preparatory  steps  of  Christ's 
ministry.  A  year  and  a  half  had  passed  since  his  baptism, 
of  which  period  but  an  imperfect  record  exists.  The  time  was 
now  come  for  the  full  disclosure  of  his  energy.  He  began  to 
feel  in  greater  measure  the  impulse  of  the  Divine  nature.  He 
had  learned,  in  this  last  visit  to  Jerusalem,  of  John's  arrest 
and  imprisonment.  The  field  was  open.  He  left  the  scowling 
brotherhood  of  Juda'an  Pharisees,  who  no  longer  disguised  their 
deadly  intentions,  and  repaired  to  Galilee,  making  Capernaum 
his  head-quarters.  We  must  soon  follow  him  in  the  repeated 
circuits  which  he  made  from  there,  and  note  the  details  of  his 
ministry. 

It  was  the  most  joyful  period  of  his  life.  It  was  a  full  year 
of  beneficence  unobstructed.  It  is  true  that  he  was  jealously 
watched,  but  he  was  not  forcibly  resisted.  He  was  maliciously 
defamed  by  the  emissaries  of  the  Temple,  but  he  irresistibly 
channed  the  hearts  of  the  common  people.  Can  we  doubt  that 
his  life  was  full  of  exquisite  enjoyment  ?  He  had  not  within 
himself  those  conflicts  which  common  men  have.  There  was 
entire  harmony  of  faculties  within,  and  a  perfect  agreement  be- 
tween his  inward  and  his  external  life.  He  bore  others'  bur- 
dens, but  had  none  of  his  own.  His  body  was  in  full  health  ; 
his  soul  was  clear  and  tranquil ;  his  heart  overflowed  with  an 


^ 


-ff 


a- -^ 

2V2  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE  CHRIST. 

unending  sympathy.  He  was  pursuing  the  loftiest  errand  which 
benevolence  can  contemjilate.  No  joy  known  to  the  human 
soul  comjjares  with  that  of  successful  beneficent  labor.  We  can- 
not doubt  that  the  earlier  portions  of  this  year,  though  full  of 
intense  excitement,  were  also  full  of  deep  happiness  to  him. 
Wherever  he  came,  he  carried  men's  hearts  with  him.  What- 
ever town  he  left,  there  had  been  hundreds  of  hearts  in  it 
made  happy  by  his  cleansing  touch.  At  times  the  excitement 
seemed  likely  to  whirl  him  awa}'.  He  was  obliged  to  repress  it, 
to  forsake  tlie  crowds  and  hide  himself  for  a  while,  —  to  with- 
hold his  miracles,  lest  the  overflowing  enthusiasm  should  be 
mistaken  by  a  jealous  government  for  political  insurrection,  and 
a  cruel  end  be  put  to  the  Avork  of  beneficence. 

We  love  to  linger  in  these  thoughts.  We  are  glad  that  Jesus 
tasted  joy  as  well  as  sorrow,  —  that  there  Avere  months  of  won- 
derful gladness.  At  times  the  cloud  of  coming  suffering  may 
have  cast  its  shadow  upon  his  path ;  but  his  daily  work  was 
full  of  light.  Could  he  behold  the  gladness  of  household  after 
household  and  be  himself  unmoved  ?  Could  he  heal  the  sick 
tlnough  wide  regions,  see  the  maimed  and  crippled  restored  to 
activity,  and  not  participate  in  the  joy  which  broke  out  on  every 
hand  ?  Could  he  console  the  sorrowing,  instruct  the  ignorant, 
recall  the  wandering,  confirm  the  Avavering,  and  not  find  his 
heart  full  of  joyfulness  ?  Besides  the  Avonder  and  admiration 
Avhicli  he  excited  on  every  hand,  he  received  from  not  a  few 
the  most  cordial  affection,  and  returned  a  richer  love. 

It  is  impossible  not  to  see  from  the  simple  language  of  the 
Evangelists,  that  his  first  circuits  in  Galilee  Avere  trium2ihal  pro- 
cessions. The  sentences  Avhich  generalize  the  history  are  fcAv, 
but  they  are  such  as  could  have  sprung  only  out  of  joyous 
memories,  and  indicate  a  new  and  great  development  of  poAver 
on  his  side,  and  an  ebullition  of  joyful  excitement  through  the 
whole  community.  "And  Jesus  returned  in  ihe power  of  the  Spirit 
into  Galilee  :  and  there  Avent  out  a  fame  of  him  through  all  the 
region  round  about.  And  he  taught  in  their  sj-nagogues,  being 
(jhrijicd  of  alW     (Luke  iv.   14,   15.) 

To  suppose  that  Jesus  had  no  gladness  in  the  Avork  which 
diffused  so  much  happiness,  that  he  could  see  the  tides  of  ex- 
citement flowing  on  every  side  Avithout  sympathy,  that  he  could 

^ s 


f 


A    TIME   OF  JOT. 


touch  responsively  every  tender  affection  in  the  human  soul  and 
not  have  a  vibration  of  its  joy  in  him.self,  is  to  suppose  him  less 
th^hunjan.  Any  wortl.y  conception  of  a  Divine  nature  must 
make  it  far  richer  m  affection  and  sympathy  than  men  can  be 
Whatever  rejoicing  attended  his  career  through  Gahlee,  we  may 
be  sure  that  no  one  was  more  happy  than  he 

On  the  Sabbath  he  seems  always  to  have  resorted  to  the  syn 
agogue  as  did  every  devout  Jew,  just  as  Christians  now  betke 
themse  yes  to  churches.     His  fl,me  would  not  permit  him    o  b 
only  a  listener      He  was  called  by  the  rulers  If  the  synago. 
to    he  place  of  teacher,  and  from  Sabbath  to  Sabbath  he  unfold- 
ed  to  his  countr^oiien  the  deep  spiritual  meanings  hidden  in  their 
Scnptures  which  had  been  buried  under  the  Pharisaic  traditions 
Bu    he  did  not  confine   himself  to  a  Scriptural  and  expository 
method  of  instruction.     On  the  Sabbath,  and  during  thl  w  ek- 
days,  when  fit  occasion  offered,  he  seized  the  events  which  were 
akmg  pace  before  their  eyes,  and,  applying  to  them  the  cri  i^ 
ci^sm  of  the  highest  morality,  he  made  them  the  texts  from  whi  h 
to  develop  a  spiritual  foith.     More  of  these  discourses  founded 
upon  passing  events  are  recorded  than  of  Scriptural  expositions 
Indeed    while  we  have  many  allusions  to  Scripture,  we  have  no 
sing  e  discourse  of  Jesus  which  may  be  strictly   called  an  ex 
pository  one.      The  freshness  of  this  method  of  teaching  the 
abandonment  of  all  mere  refinements  and  frivolous  nicetiet  the 
pphcation  of  humane  good  sense  and  of  rational  justice  to  every 
^la.yniterests,gaye  to  his  teaching  a  power  whic'h  never  aclom- 
panied  the  tedious  dialectics  of  the  Jewish  doctors.     "An       hey 
were  astonished  at  his  doctrine:  for  he  taught  them  as  one  tHt 
had  aii^hori  y,  and  not  as  the  scribes.  .  .  .  For  his  word  was  w^'h 
power."     (Mark  i.  22  ;  Luke  iv.  32.) 

An  occurrence  on  one  of  the  earliest,  if  not  the  very  first  of 
the  Sabbaths  spent  in  Capernaum,  will  furnish  a  good  example 
of    he  scenes  of  this  great  year  of  his  ministry.  ^ 

found  till?''  r  '^"''t^^  ^^  '^''  synagogue,  amidst  the  pro- 
iound  stillness  the  people  were  startled  by  a  wdld  outcry  A 
l^or  wretch  was  there  who  "  had  the  spirit'of  an  unclerdevir 
^  th  the  pathos  of  intense  fear  he  cried  out,  "Let  us  alone- 
hat  have  we  to  do  with  thee,  thou  Jesus  of  Nazareth  ?  "  All 
this  might  have  resulted  from  the  pungent  nature  of  the  teach- 


214  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

iiig,  Ijut  not  the  cry,  "  I  know  thee  who  thon  art,  the  Holy  One 
of  God,"  —  this  was  something  more  than  a  random  speech.  We 
may  imagine  the  shock  which  such  a  scene  would  produce  in  the 
midst  of  a  sermon  in  one  of  our  churches.  Jesus,  undisturbed 
and  calm,  enjoined  silence,  and  with  a  word  of  command  drove 
out  the  evil  spirit.  Then  came  the  reaction ;  all  men  were  filled 
with  admiration  and  spread  the  news  abroad.  But  Jesus,  with- 
drawing from  the  tumult,  secluded  himself  during  the  heat  of 
the  day  in  Peter's  house.  There  he  found  Peter's  mother-in-law 
prostrated  with  a  fever.  At  a  touch  of  his  hand  she  was  healed, 
and  resumed  her  household  duties  before  them  all,  as  if  she  had 
not  been  sick.     Tlie  whole  city  was  alive  with  excitement. 

During  the  fiery  noons  of  Oriental  cities  men  shut  themselves 
up  in  their  houses ;  but  at  evening  they  pour  forth,  and  the  gate 
of  the  city  is  the  grand  re.sort.  Thither  too,  upon  this  same  day, 
repaired  Jesus,  who  was  always  drawn  toward  the  multitudes. 
He  was  evidently  expected  and  eagerly  awaited.  And  now  ap- 
peared a  scene  which  only  the  imagination  can  depict.  All  the 
diseases  which  the  violent  heats  in  that  climate  breed  upon  the 
imcleanly  habits  and  the  squalid  poverty  of  the  masses  were 
represented  at  the  gate  by  appropriate  subjects.  Fevers,  drop- 
sies, paralyses,  were  there.  The  blind,  the  deaf,  and  —  hovering 
on  the  edge  afar  off —  the  lepers  implored  help.  The  lame  came 
limping,  and  those  too  sick  to  help  themselves  were  borne  thither 
by  their  friends,  until  the  ample  space  was  like  a  camp  hospital. 
Jesus  commenced  among  them  his  merciful  work.  It  was  a  sol- 
enm  and  joyful  scene.  Human  misery  was  exhibited  here  in 
many  forms ;  but  as,  one  by  one,  the  touch  or  word  of  the  Mas- 
ter healed  it,  came  the  rebound  of  exultation.  Those  who  were 
coming,  bearing  the  sick  on  couches,  met  returning  happy  groups 
of  those  who  had  been  healed.  Many  tears  of  rejoicing  fell,  as 
children  were  given  back  to  despairing  mothers.  Strange  calm- 
ness in  some  natures,  and  wild  exhilaration  in  others,  attested 
the  rapture  of  deliverance  from  loathsome  disease.  Never,  in 
all  their  memories,  had  there  been  such  an  evening  twilight  of 
a  Sabbath  day.  But  of  all  who  went  home  that  night  in  ecstasy 
of  gladness,  there  was  not  one  whose  nature  enabled  him  to  feel 
the  deep  joy  of  Him  who  said,  "  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than 
to  receive." 

t- ^ 


a- izn: 

A    TIME   OF  JOT.  -  215 

We  always  long  to  look  into  the  souls  of  great  men  at  critical 
periods,  to  see  how  success  or  defeat  affects  them.  This  had 
been  a  triumphal  Sabbath  to  Jesus.  No  opposition  seems  to  have 
arisen  from  any  quarter.  His  instructions  had  been  received 
without  cavil,  and  had  awakened  an  almost  idolatrous  enthusiasm. 
His  name  was  on  every  lip;  his  praise  resounded  through  the 
whole  neighborhood,  and  the  day  had  closed  by  such  a  luminous 
display  of  merciful  benefoctions  as  left  all  his  former  deeds  in 
the  shade.  The  effect  of  such  success  upon  his  own  soul  is 
dimly  shown  in  the  record  by  the  intimations  of  a  probablv 
sleepless  night,  and  his  going  forth  long  before  daylight  into  a 
quiet  place  for  prayer.  The  excitement  of  beneficence  lifted 
him  toward  the  Divine  Spirit.  If  success  had  in  any  wise  tempt- 
ed him  to  vanity,  he  found  a  refuge  in  communion  with  God. 
"And  in  the  morning,  rising  up  a  great  while  before  day,  he 
went  out,  and  departed  into  a  solitarv  place,  and  there  prayed  " 
(Mark  i.  35.) 

But  the  tumult  of  excitement  in  the  city  could  not  easily  sub- 
side. Early  the  people  began  to  throng  Peter's  house  to  find 
him  again.  Peter  and  his  brothers  went  forth  to  search  for 
the  wanderer.  We  can  without  violence  imagine  that  he  had 
selected  one  of  the  near  slopes  of  the  hills  which  hedge  in  the 
Sea  of  Galilee  on  its  western  limit.  There  lay  the  tranquil  waters. 
The  last  mists  were  dissolving  from  its  face  as  the  footsteps  of 
the  throng  drew  near.  Simon  salutes  him,  saying,  "All  men 
seek  for  thee";  and  the  people  with  him  press  around  Jesus 
with  affectionate  violence,  as  if  they  would  carry  him  back  to 
the  city  in  their  arras.  They  "  came  unto  him,  and  stayed  him, 
that  he  should  not  depart  from  them."  The  desire  was  natural  • 
but  he  had  a  -mission  of  which  they  knew  not.  It  was  not  for 
him  to  settle  in  Capernaum,  nor  suffer  them  to  appropriate  to 
themselves  all  his  mercies.  He  replied  to  their  importunity,  "  I 
must  preach  the  kingdom  of  God  to  other  cities  also." 

It  is  not  to.  be  supposed  that  the  Pharisees  joined  in  this  gen- 
eral applause.  While  there  were  just  men  among  them,  the 
great  body  were  either  secretly  or  openly  inimical  to  Jesus. 
But  they  were  politic  ;  they  did  not  choose  to  array  themselves 
against  the  people  in  the  hour  of  their  enthusiasm.  If  at  first 
they  hesitated,  hoping  that  this  man  of  singular  influence  might 


-a 


-tf 


a- -a 

216  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,  THE  CHRIST. 

be  used  in  the  interest  of  their  party,  they  had  now  given  up 
all  such  expectations,  and  their  enmity  grew  with  his  popularity. 
Thus  at  this  time  they  seem  to  have  neither  applauded  nor  oj)- 
posed  him. 

Jesus  journeyed,  after  the  manner  of  the  country,  on  foot.  So 
thickly  were  the  towns  planted  in  populous  Galilee  that  he  need- 
ed to  make  but  a  short  march  from  one  to  another.  It  was  the 
hospitable  custom  of  the  time,  when  Jewish  Rabbis  went  from 
place  to  place,  to  provide  for  all  their  wants.  Thus  Jesus  was 
supported  l)y  the  kindness  of  the  people  wherever  he  labored. 
Can  it  be  doubted  that,  among  so  many  who  received  at  his 
hands  priceless  gifts  of  healing  or  consolation,  there  were  found 
numbers  of  all  classes  who  contested  for  the  privilege  of  enter- 
taininci-  him  ?  And  yet  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  he  allied 
himself  very  closely  with  the  poor  and  laboring  class.  It  is  cer- 
tain that  in  his  pas.sage  through  Galilee,  at  a  later  day  than  that 
of  which  we  are  speaking,  he  was  dependent  upon  the  contri- 
butions of  grateful  women  whom  he  had  healed  or  blessed  by  his 
teaching,  and  who  accompanied  his  di.sciples.  (Luke  viii.  1-3.) 
We  also  know  that  the  company  of  disciples  was  organized  into 
a  family,  had  a  common  treasury,  and  received  into  it  the  gifts 
of  benevolence  for  their  joint  support.  Jesus  never  scrupled  to 
accept  the  hospitality  of  the  rich,  for  they  too  were  men ;  yet  bo 
seems  to  have  been  at  no  time  long  separated  from  the  poor  and 
wretched  of  his  people.  Had  he  dwelt  among  the  rich  and  gone 
down  to  the  poor,  he  could  never  have  come  so  near  to  their 
hearts  as  when  he  ate  their  bread,  slept  under  their  humble 
roofs,  and  sympathized  with  their  ta.sks  and  labors,  as  his  own 
early  life  peculiarly  fitted  him  to  do.  Many  a  wanderer  would 
come  to  him  as  he  sat  among  the  lowly,  who  would  not  have 
dared  to  enter  the  mansions  of  the  rich.  Yet  one  will  in  vain 
look  for  a  syllable  in  all  his  teachings  that  would  favor  the  preju- 
dices which  one  class  usually  entertains  against  another.  He 
was  faithful  to  all  in  rebuking  their  evil.  But  his  spirit  tended 
to  draw  men  together,  and  to  unite  the  widely  separated  classes 
of  society  in  the  sympathy  of  a  common  brotherhood. 

Immediately  following  the  Sabbath  whose  history  we  have 
o-iven  above,  Jesus  made  the  first  of  the  series  of  circuits  which 
marked  this  period  of  his  life,  and  by  which  he  compassed  the 

^ -^ 


r 


-a 


fr 


A    TIME   OF  JOT.  217 

whole  of  Galilee  several  times  during  this  year.     So  vao-ue  are 
the  chronological  hints  in  the  Evangelists,  that  we  cannot  note 
with  precision  either  the  several  routes  or  the  exact  periods  at 
which  the  several  journeys  were  made,  nor  ascertain  to  which 
of  the  circuits  belong  certain  descriptions  of  the  effects  produced 
It  IS  probable  that  every  appearance  of  Jesus  w^as  the  sio-nal  for 
great  excitement,  that  the  course  of  ordinary  affairs  w^-Ts  inter- 
rupted, and  that  the  whole  population  in  some  instances  were 
turned  out  of  the  usual  channels  of  life.     Not  only  did  the  peo- 
ple of  each  town  throng  his  steps,  but  there  came  from  abroad 
from  widely  different  directions,  great  multitudes,  who  crowded 
the  roads,  choked  up  the  villages,  and  went  with  him  from  place 
to  place.     Matthew  says  that  "great  multitudes"  of  people  "fol- 
lowed" him  from  Galilee,  from  Decapolis  (the  name  of  a  region 
on  the  northeast  of  Palestine,  comprising  ten  cities),  from  Je- 
rusalem, from  Judaea  generally,  and  from  beyond  Jordan,  and 
that  his  fame  was  spread  "throughout  all  Syria."     Every  day 
added  to  the  excitement.     It  threatened  to  become  revolution- 
ary.    Every  emment  miracle   shot  forth  a  new  ardor      Caper- 
naum, on   one  occasion,  was  fairly  besieged,  so  that,   as  Mark 
says,  he   "could  no  more   openly  enter  into  the  city"      How 
large  these  crowds  actually  were,  we  have  some  means  of  judcr. 
ing  by  the  numbers  mentioned  in  the  subsequent  history  of  the 
feeding  of  the  multitudes  ;  in  one  case  four  thousand,  and   in 
another  case  five  thousand,  were  supplied   with  food.      It  was 
certainly  to  be  desired  that  the  preaching  of  Jesus  should  arouse 
the  whole  community;  but  an  excessive  and  ungovernable  ex 
citement  was    unfavorable   to   the   reception  of  the  truth    and 
subjected   the  people    to    bloody  dangers  by  arousing    the  sus- 
picions of  a  vigilant  and  cruel   government.      Herod  would  be 
likely  to  imagine  that  under  all  these  pretences  of  religion  lurked 
some  political  scheme.     The  Pharisees,  as  we  know,  had  made 
league  with  the   Herodians  against  Jesus,  and  were  fomentin^r 
malignant  jealousies.     For  these  reasons  it  is  not  strange  that 
Jesus  sought  to  allay  enthusiasm,  rather  than  to  inflame  curiosity 
liut  It  was  impossible;   his  words  had  no  more  effect  than  dew 
upon  a  burning  prairie. 

Is  this  surprising?     What  if  in  one  of  our   villacres    such    a 
scene  as  the  healing  of  the  leper,  or  the  curing  of  tl^e  paralytic. 


^ 


a- -02 

218  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE    CHRIST. 

should  take  place?  For  about  this  time  it  was  that  in  a  "cer- 
tain city"  —  what  city  we  know  not  —  Jesus  saw  one  approach- 
ing him  whose  dress  marked  him  as  a  leper.  By  law  the  leper 
had  no  right  to  come  near  to  any  one.  He  was  bound,  if  any 
one  appi'oached  him  unawares,  to  lift  up  a  wail  of  warning  :  "  Un- 
clean !  unclean ! "  Such,  however,  was  the  repute  of  Jesus  for 
divine  sympathy,  that  even  lepers  long  used  to  luikindness  and 
neglect  forgot  their  habits  of  seclusion  and  avoidance.  Right 
before  the  feet  of  the  Master  fell  a  leper  upon  his  face,  and  with 
intense  supplication  "besought"  him  :  "Lord,  if  thou  wilt,  thou 
canst  make  me  clean." 

It  was  not  needful  to  touch  this  loathsome  creature.  A  word 
would  heal  him.  But  a  word  would  not  express  the  tenderness 
and  yearning  sympathy  of  the  Saviour's  heart.  "And  Jesus, 
moved  with  compassion,  put  fortli  lik  haml.,  and  iouclwd  liiiii,  and 
saith  unto  him,  "I  Avill ;  be  thou  clean." 

That  Jesus  commanded  him  to  go  and  exhiljit  himself,  with 
appropriate  offerings,  to  the  Jewish  ])riests,  may  seem  strange, 
when  we  consider  how  free  Jesus  himself  was  from  the  conven- 
tionalism of  his  age.  There  does  not  seem  to  ha  an  instance 
in  which  he  ever  set  aside  an  original  Mosaic  rite  or  institute. 
It  was  the  additions  made  by  the  Pharisees  that  he  pushed 
away  wathout  reverence,  and  even  with  repugnance.  No  other 
Jew  was  more  oljscrvant  of  the  original  religious  institutes  of 
Moses  than  he  who  came  to  "  fulfil  the  law."  He  went  behind 
the  tradition  of  the  elders  to  the  Law  itself:  nay,  he  accepted 
the  commands  of  Moses  because  they  coincided  with  the  Divine 
Avill.  "  Ye  have  made  the  commamhiuiit  of  God  of  none  eflect  by 
j-our  tradition." 

In  no  way  was  the  leper  capalile  of  expressing  his  gratitude 
religiously  other  than  by  the  customs  of  his  own  people.  He 
had  not  leaiuied  the  higher  forms  of  spiritual  life.  He  must 
speak  his  thanks  to  God  in  the  language  which  he  had  learned, 
even  if  some  other  Avere  a  better  language.  All  the  expedients 
of  external  worship  in  this  world  are  but  crutches  to  weak  souls. 
The  true  Avorship  is  in  spirit.  It  requires  neither  altar,  nor  priest, 
nor  uttered  pra3^er,  but  only  the  grateful  heart,  open  before  Him 
Avho  knoAVs  better  than  any  one  can  tell  Him  all  that  men  Avould 
say. 

^ ^ ^ ^ 


cB- -^ 

A    TIME   OF  JOY.  219 

The  healed  leper,  however,  did  not  obey  the  injunction.  Car- 
ried away  with  overpowering  joy,  he  went  blazing  abroad  the 
deed  of  mercy.  Can  we  wonder  ?  Leprosy  was  a  living  death. 
The  worst  form  of  the  disease,  as  it  is  seen  in  Palestine  to-day, 
is  described  by  Thomson  in  these  words  :  "The  hair  falls  off 
from  the  head  and  eyebrows ;  the  nails  loosen,  decay,  and  drop 
off;  joint  after  joint  of  the  fingers  and  toes  shrinks  up  and  slowly 
falls  away.  The  gums  are  absorbed  and  the  teeth  disappear. 
The  nose,  the  eyes,  the  tongue,  and  the  palate  are  slowly  con- 
sumed ;  and  finally  the  wretched  victim  sinks  into  the  earth  and 
disapjiears,  while  medicine  has  no  power  to  stay  the  ravages  of 
this  fell  disease,  or  even  to  mitigate  sensibly  its  tortures."  ^ 

With  what  sensations  must  health  be  received  back  by  this 
exile  from  society,  seeing  life  afar  off,  but  not  particijDating  in 
its  joys !  In  one  instant  his  skin  was  sweet  and  smooth,  his  face 
comely,  his  breath  wholesome.  He  might  again  clasp  his  mother 
in  his  arms !  He  might  take  little  children  upon  his  knee  !  The 
lips  of  love  would  not  now  shrink  from  the  kiss  which  so  long 
lay  withered  upon  his  lips  !  What  marvel  if  his  joy  rang  through 
the  region  round  about,  and  roused  up  other  suffering  wretches, 
who  went  thronging  toward  the  city,  hopeful  of  a  like  cure  ? 
Nor  were  they  disappointed.  The  narratives  of  the  Evangelists 
clearly  imply  that  whole  neighljorhoods  turned  out  with  their 
sick,  and  returned  with  every  invalid  healed.  As  a  frost  kills 
malaria,  or  a  wind  sweeps  impurity  from  the  sidtry  air,  so  the 
words  of  Jesus  seemed  to  purify  the  fountains  of  health  in  whole 
districts.  None  of  all  that  came  were  refused.  It  is  in  vain  to 
explain  away  the  miraculous  element  in  the  few  cases  which 
are  given  in  detail,  unless  some  natural  solution  can  be  found 
for  the  healing  of  hundreds  and  thousands,  repeatedly  effected 
at  different  times  and  in  different  neighborhoods. 

At  length,  when  the  beneficence  of  healing  had  completed  its 
work,  Jesus  retreated  from  the  excitement,  from  the  curiosity, 
the  admiration,  the  criticism,  the  importunity  of  enthusiasm  and 
aflFection,  and  hid  himself  in  the  near  solitudes.  The  love  of 
solitude  is  strikingly  shown  in  Jesus.  Nothing  exhausts  one  so 
soon  as  sympathy  with  the  active  sorrows  of  men.  Drawn  out 
on  every  side  by  men's  needs,  he  regained  his  equilibrium  in  the 

'  The  Land  and  the  Book,  (American  edition,)  Vol.  II.  p.  519. 

^&^— ^ ^ 


^ -a 

220  TB£  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

''  wilderness."  It  wa.s  there  too  that  his  thoughts  rose  into  com- 
munion with  his  Father.  What  reminiscences  of  heaven  had  he  ? 
What  dim  memories  of  his  former  life  and  joy  came  to  him  ? 
Was  not  the  silence  of  solitude  full  of  whispers  from  the  spirit 
land  ?  No  one  can  tell.  There  are  many  who  can  testify  that 
to  them  the  solitudes  that  lie  near  to  every  side  of  life  ha\e 
been  as  the  dawn  of  the  morning  after  a  troubled  night,  as  a 
cool  shadow  in  the  hot  noon,  —  a  fountain  in  a  great  and  weary 
desert. 

That  Jesus  did  not  confine  his  religious  instructions  to  Sab- 
bath day.s,  and  that  he  occupied  other  places  than  the  syna- 
gogues, is  plain  from  the  accounts  of  his  sermons  from  boats  to 
the  people  assembled  on  the  shore,  and  of  his  discoursing  on 
the  mountain-side,  and  is  seen  in  an  occurrence  which  took  place 
soon  after  his  return  to  Capernaum  from  his  first  circuit.  He 
was  sitting  in  a  private  dwelling.  It  was  soon  noised  alnoad 
in  the  city.  Out  ru.-<hed  hundreds  to  find  him.  The  court  of 
the  house  was  choked  with  the  crowd ;  the  streets  were  thronged. 
There  was  "  no  room  to  receive  them,  no,  not  so  much  as  about 
the  door :  and  he  preached  the  word  unto  them."  While  he  was 
thus  engaged,  four  men  were  seen  bearing  upon  a  litter  between 
them  a  poor  paralytic,  and  seeking  to  penetrate  the  crowd.  Im- 
possible !  An  eager  throng,  made  up  of  persons  each  seeking 
some  advantage  for  himself,  and  moved  by  no  common  imjiulse 
but  that  of  selfishness,  is  harder  to  be  penetrated  than  stone 
walls  and  wooden  structures.  All  at  once,  as  Jesus  was  teach- 
ing, without  doubt  in  such  a  one-story  house  as  is  still  to  be  seen 
in  that  same  neighborhood,  the  roof  above  his  head  was  parted, 
—  as  from  its  construction  could  easily  be  done,  and  as  was  fre- 
quently done  for  various  purposes,  —  and  through  the  opening 
was  let  down  before  him  the  unhappy  patient !  Struck  with 
their  confident  faith,  Jesus,  interrupted  in  his  discourse,  natu- 
rally conferred  that  favor  which  to  him  was  unspeakably  greater 
than  any  other:  "Son,  be  of  good  cheer;  thy  sins  be  forgiven 
thee  ! " 

Instantly  a  hum  of  voices  was  heard.  Confusion  arose  ;  for 
he  was  preaching,  not  to  unlettered  citizens  alone,  but  to  an  un- 
usual number  of  the  dignitaries  of  the  synagogue  and  Temple. 
"  There  were  Pharisees  and  doctors  of  the  law  sitting  by,  which 

4^ ^ 


f- ^ ^ 

A    TIME   OF  JOT.  221 

were  come  out  of  every  town  of  Galilee  and  Juda-a  and  Jeru- 
salem." The  bare  enunciation  of  the  forgiveness  of  sins  could 
hardly  have  disturbed  these  worthies.  It  must  be  that  Jesus 
uttered  the  words  with  the  air  of  sovereignty.  It  was  one  of 
those  moments  in  which  his  Divine  nature  shone  out  with  radi- 
ance. The  Pharisees  plainly  regarded  him  as  acting  in  his  own 
right,  and  assuming  authority  to  forgive  sins,  which  was  a  Divine 
prerogative.  They  cried  out,  "Blasphemy!  blasphemy!"  They 
challeiiged  him  on  the  spot :  "  Who  can  forgive  sins,  but  God 
alone  ? ''  Jesus  'accepted  their  construction,  and  after  some  words 
of  reasoning  replied,  "  That  ye  may  know  that  the  Son^  of  Man 
hath  power  on  earth  to  forgive  sins,"  —  turning  to  the  sick  man, 
—  "Arise,  take  up  thy  bed,  and  go  thy  way  unto  thine  house." 
To  the  doctors  there  could  be  but  one  interpretation  of  this  re- 
sponse.    It  was  an  unequivocal  claim  of  Divinity. 

Men  suffering  from  hallucinations  have  claimed  for  themselves 
dignities  and  titles  transcendently  above  their  merit.  One  must 
he  himself  suffering  from  an  hallucination  who  can  imagine 
Jesus  at  this  period  of  his  development  to  be  over-heated  in 
brain,  or  ilmatical.  His  wonderful  discourse,  which  drew  and 
fascinated  alike  the  rudest  and  the  most  learned,  his  calmness, 
his  self-forgetfulness,  and  his  tender  sympathy  for  others,  are 
inconsistent  with  any  supposition  of  a  tainted  reason,  and  still 
less  with  an  over-swollen  pride  and  self-conceit.  And  yet,  when 
his  attention  was  called  to  the  fact  that  forgiveness  of  sin  was  a 
Divine  prerogative,  he  did  not  explain  that  it  was  a  delegated 
authority,  but  reaffirmed  his  right  to  forgive  of  his  own  proper 
self,  and  wrought  a  miracle  in  attestation  of  that  right. 

That  his  whole  bearing  was  unusually  impressive  is  plain  from 
the  effect  produced  upon  the  common  people  in  the  crowd. 
They  had  seen  repeated  instances  of  healing  and  of  other  works 
of  mercy.  But  there  was  in  this  case  something  more  than  is 
set  forth  in  the  narrative,  and  which  must  have  been  effected 
by  the  majesty  of  his  person  and  the  greatness  of  his  spn-it ; 
for  as  they  dispersed  they  went  softly  and  awe-stricken,  saynig 
one  to  another,  "We  have  seen  strange  things  to-day,"  — "  W^e 
never  saw  it  on  this  fashion."  Luke  says,  "They  marvelled,  and 
were  filled  with  fear."  Matthew  says  they  "  glorified  God,  which 
had  given  such  power  unto  men."     What  the  Pharisees  and  the 

^ 


a- 


^ 


222  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

doctors  said  we  do  not  know.  That  some  of  them  may  have 
been  inwardly  convinced  that  this  was  the  Messiah,  is  quite  prob- 
able ;  but  that  the  most  of  them  were  only  the  more  enraged 
and  set  against  Jesus,  is  more  than  probable. 

It  will  be  recollected  that,  soon  after  his  baptism,  Jesus  gath- 
ered a  few  disciples  from  among  those  who  companied  Avith  John. 
Although  they  were  found  and  called  in  Judtea,  yet  they  all 
lived  in  Galilee,  went  back  with  him  on  his  return  thither,  and 
are  mentioned  as  guests  with  him  at  the  marriage  in  Cana. 
During  the  long  intervals  of  quiet  and  seclusion  which  Jesus 
seems  to  have  had  during  the  first  year  after  his  baptism,  they 
seem  to  have  gone  back  to  their  occupations,  and  awaited,  doubt- 
less, the  signal  which  should  recall  them  to  him.  Jesus  was,  in 
the  eyes  of  his  people,  a  Rabbi,  or  learned  teacher,  although 
prol)ably  he  was  deemed  irregular,  and  was  out  of  favor  with  the 
heads  of  schools.  He  followed  all  the  customs  of  his  people  Avhen 
they  were  innocent;  and  in  his  teaching  career  he  undoubtedly 
pursued  the  course  which  was  common  among  Rabbis,  of  gath- 
ering classes  of  pupils,  and  living  with  them,  and  even  upon 
their  contributions.  The  pupils  were  expected,  under  due  reg- 
ulation, to  diffuse  among  others  the  knowledge  which  they  re- 
ceived from  their  Rabbi.  They  sometimes  expounded  to  the 
people  under  the  eye  of  their  teacher ;  and  as  they  advanced  in 
capacity,  they  were  sent  out  upon  circuits  of  their  own.  Great 
pains  was  taken  among  the  Jews  to  promote  education.  Large 
schools  existed  in  Palestine,  and  in  other  lands  whither  the  Jews 
had  migrated.  In  these  schools  was  taught  the  whole  round 
of  knowledge  then  existing;  —  theology,  philosophy,  jurispru- 
dence, astronom}',  astrology,  medicine,  botau}^,  geography,  arith- 
metic, architecture,  social  duties,  etiquette,  and  even  trades,  were 
taught.  Indeed,  it  was  the  boast  of  eminent  Rabbis  that  they 
had  learned  a  trade,  and  could,  if  need  be,  support  themselves 
by  their  own  hands,  without  depending  upon  fees  for  tuition ; 
and  they  prided  themselves  upon  titles  derived  from  trades ;  — 
as,  Rabl)i  Simon,  the  tveavcr ;  Rabbi  Ismael,  the  needlc-maJccr ; 
Rabbi  Jochanan,  the  shoemaJccr.  This  will  suggest  Paul's  occupa- 
tion, that  of  a  tent-maker. 

Besides  the  teaching  of  these  high  schools  or  colleges,  instruc- 

^ & 


c& 


A    TIME   OF  JOT. 


223 


-a 


tion  was  provided  for  children,  and  throughout  Palestine  there 
prevailed  no  inconsiderable  zeal  in  the  cause  of  popular  edu- 
cation. Through  the  more  elementary  schools  it  is  almost 
certain  that  Jesus  and  his  disciples  had  passed,  and  equally 
sure  that  they  had  uot  studied  m  the  higher  seminaries  or  col- 
leges. 

The  method  of  instruction  pursued  in  Jewish  schools  throws 
light  upon  the  course  pursued  by  our  Lord.  The  mode  of  im- 
parting knowledge  was  chiefly  catechetical.  After  the  master 
had  lectured,  the  pupils  asked  questions.  To  stir  up  their  pupils 
if  they  grew  dull,  allegories,  riddles,  and  stories  were  intro- 
duced. The  parable  was  a  favorite  device  with  the  Jewish 
teacher.  He  often  propounded  questions,  and,  if  his  pupils  could 
not  answer,  solved  them  himself  Christ's  method  then  was  that 
of  his  age  and  countrymen,  ^vith  only  such  differences  as  might 
arise  from  different  personality.  Instruction  from  village  to  vil- 
lage ;  a  company  of  pupils  going  with  him,  both  as  learners  and 
assistants ;  the  familiar  and  colloquial  style  of  discoui'se  ;  the  use 
of  parables  and  of  enigmatical  sentences ;  —  these  were  all  fa- 
miliar to  his  times.  It  was  in  matter,  and  not  in  manner,  that 
he  differed  from  oi'dinary  teachers. 


SYBIAN   FISHERMEN,   MENDING   NETS. 


ft 


The  time  had  now  come  for  the  permanent  formation  of  his 
disciple-family,  and  it  took  place  at  or  near  Capernaum.     We  are 


ft 


^ ■ -a 

224  THE  LIFE   OF  JFSUS,    THE    CHE/ST. 

charmed  with  the  picture  which  is  given  of  the  morning  scene 
on  the  shores  of  Genesareth.  It  breathes  the  very  air  of  reality, 
and  its  simphcity  gives  a  clear  pictm'e  of  our  Lord's  manner.  It 
was  early  dawn,  and  those  whose  avocations  called  them  to  the 
busy  shore  were  making  the  most  of  the  cool  hours.  Jesus  came 
quietly  to  the  water's  edge,  and  stood  watching  certain  fisher- 
men who  had  hauled  their  nets  upon  the  beach  and  were  wash- 
ing and  putting  them  in  order.  He  was  not  left  to  himself;  for 
the  people,  as  soon  as  they  knew  him,  began  to  press  aroiuid 
him  with  questions  and  solicitations.  As  they  began  to  close  in, 
he  stepped  upon  one  of  the  fishing-boats,  and,  pu.sliing  out  a 
little,  turned  to  the  rude  but  eager  crowd  and  deliA^ered  a  dis- 
course to  them.  His  theme  was  doubtless  taken  from  something 
which  lay  before  him.  That  was  his  custom.  Both  text  and 
sermon  have  perished  with  the  people  to  whom  they  were 
spoken.  As  soon  as  he  had  finished,  he  commanded  Simon  to 
push  out  into  deep  water  and  let  down  his  net.  Simon,  prompt 
to  speak  and  over-confident,  first  excused  himself  on  the  ground 
that  they  had  been  tryiug  all  night  and  that  there  was  no  use  in 
trying  again ;  and  then,  having  eased  his  wilfulness,  he  complied 
with  the  request.  No  sooner  was  this  done  than  such  a  mul- 
titude of  fish  was  secured  as  they  had  never  seen  at  any  time 
before.  Indeed,  Simon  saw  in  it  a  Divine  power.  His  boldness 
and  familiarity  forsook  him.  He  stood  before  a  superior  being, 
and  his  own  unworthiness  was  the  first  impression  which  seized 
him.  "  He  fell  down  at  Jesus's  knees,  saying,  Depart  from  me  ; 
for  I  am  a  sinful  man,  0  Lord."  Not  far  away  were  the  broth- 
ers, James  and  John,  who  had  a  partnership  with  Simon.  Them 
also  Jesus  called.  Without  ado,  and  unhesitatingly,  they  for- 
sook their  property  and  their  occupation,  and  from  this  time  did 
not  leave  him.  The}'  could  not  mistake  the  import  of  his  call : 
'•  Follow  me.  I  will  from  henceforth  make  you  to  become  fishers 
of  men."  The  whole  scene  is  natural  and  harmonious.  There 
was  no  striking  assumption  of  authority.  Fishermen  were  ap- 
proached through  their  own  busuiess,  by  methods  which  were 
adapted  to  their  habits  and  ideas. 

The  call  of  Levi,  better  known  by  the  name  of  Matthew,  is 
recorded  more  briefly.  He  was  a  tax-gatherer  under  the  Roman 
government     It  was  an  ungracious  office.     It  was  the  last  po- 

^b— -^ 


[p -a 

A    TIME   OF  JOY  225 

sition  in  which  to  look  for  an  apostle.  Collecting  customs-dues 
of  his  own  people  to  feed  the  court  of  Herod  and  to  uphold 
the  Roman  usurpation,  with  profit  to  himself,  was  not  likely  to 
endear  him  to  his  countrymen,  nor  to  prepare  his  own  heart  for 
the  unremunerative  and  wandering  life  of  self-denial  to  which 
he  was  called.  Yet  there  was  in  the  few  simple  words  of  Je- 
sus a  charm  that  wrought  instantly.  "Follow  me."  "And  he 
arose,"  ("left  all,"  says  Luke,)  "and  followed  him." 

It  is  not  unlikely  that  Matthew,  like  Simon,  John,  James,  and 
Philip,  had  already  been  a  disciple  of  Chi'ist,  and  like  them  had 
never  separated  himself  from  his  regular  business  ;  so  that  the 
call,  which  seems  to  us  so  sudden,  was  far  less  peremptory  and 
unexpected  to  him  than  it  seems  in  the  narrative. 

We  are  not  to  confound  the  outside  disciples  of  Christ  with  the 
inner  circle,  —  the  family  of  his  Apostles,  —  who  were  called 
"  that  they  should  be  tvith  him,  and  that  he  might  send  them  forth 
to  preach."  His  Apostles  were  disciples,  but  all  his  disciples 
were  not  Apostles. 

There  was  collected  in  every  circuit  a  large  disciple  band  with- 
out organization,  attached  to  his  ministrations,  rather  than  to  his 
person.  Of  the  company  of  twelve  disciples  there  were  three 
pairs  of  brothers.  All  of  them  were  Galileans.  All  were  from 
the  humbler  walks  of  life,  though  in  several  instances  they  were 
not  poor.  Levi  had  a  house  of  his  own,  and  could  give  to  his 
Master  a  "  great  feast."  James  and  John,  sons  of  Zebedee,  con- 
ducted a  business  which  enabled  them  to  employ  under-servants ; 
and  their  mother,  Salome,  "  ministered  of  her  substance  "  to  the 
Master's  support.  It  is  impossible,  from  the  materials  at  our 
command,  to  ascertain  upon  what  principle  of  selection  the  dis- 
ciples were  gathered.  But  few  of  them  asserted  any  such 
individuality  as  to  bring  their  names  into  view  during  the  min- 
istry of  Jesus. 

The  evil  record  of  Judas  will  keep  his  name  in  memory. 
Peter  was  conspicuous  through  the  wdiole  career.  John  was 
specially  associated  with  the  Master.  With  Peter  and  John  was 
associated  James,  though  little  except  his  name  appears  in  the 
Gospel  narratives.  They  were  all  selected  from  the  common 
walks  of  life.  None  of  them  give  evidence  of  peculiar  depth  of 
religious  feeling.     None  except  John  ever  exhibited  any  traits  of 

*- ^ 


^ -^ 

226  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,    THE  CHJilST. 

genius.  That  they  were  subject  to  the  common  faults  of  hu- 
manity abundantly  appears  in  their  disputes  among  themselves, 
in  their  worldly  ambitions,  in  the  plotting  to  supersede  each 
other,  in  their  rash  and  revengeful  imprecations  of  judgments 
upon  the  villagers  who  had  treated  Jesus  with  disrespect,  and  in 
their  utter  lack  of  courage  when  the  final  catastrophe  was  ap- 
proaching. They  partook  of  all  the  errors  of  their  age.  They 
were  as  little  competent  to  understand  the  spiritual  teachings 
of  their  Master  as  were  the  average  of  their  countr\Tnen.  They 
believed  in  an  earthly  kingdom  for  the  Messiah,  and,  with  the 
rest  of  their  people,  anticipated  a  carnal  triumph  of  the  Jews 
over  all  their  enemies.  They  could  not  be  made  to  understand 
that  their  Master  was  to  be  put  to  death;  and  when  he  was 
arrested,  they  "all  forsook  him  and  fled."  They  hovered  in  be- 
wilderment around  tlie  solemn  tragedy ;  but  only  one  of  them, 
John,  had  the  courage  to  be  present  and  near  at  the  crucifix- 
ion of  their  Teacher.  Looking  externally  upon  these  men,  con- 
trasting them  with  such  as  jS^icodemus  and  Joseph  of  Arimathea, 
the  question  arises  whether  among  all  the  more  highly  cultivated 
Jews,  among  the  Pharisees  and  doctors,  there  might  not  have 
been  found  sincere  men,  of  deeply  religious  natures,  of  educated 
intelligence,  who,  under  the  same  amount  of  personal  instruction, 
would  have  been  far  more  capable  of  carrying  forward  the  work 
of  the  new  kingdom.  All  that  can  be  known  is,  that  Jesus 
chose  his  disciples,  not  from  Judaea,  but  from  Galilee,  far  away 
fiom  the  Temple  influence  and  in  a  province  much  affected  by 
the  foreign  spirit ;  that  he  selected  them,  not  from  the  specifi- 
cally religious  class,  but  from  the  working  people.  None  are 
mentioned  as  taken  from  agricultural  pursuits,  and  all  whose 
occupations  are  mentioned  were  more  or  less  concerned  with 
commerce.  That  there  were  reasons  in  his  own  mind  for  the 
selection  none  can  doubt,  and  none  can  ever  know  what  the  rea- 
sons were.  That  he  felt  for  his  immediate  followers  a  strong 
affection  is  plam,  and  that  his  regard  was  strengthened  to  the 
end  of  his  life  can  be  doubted  by  none  who  read  those  incom- 
parable discourses  of  love  which  immediately  preceded  his  arrest, 
and  which  John  alone  records,  —  John,  the  most  impassioned, 
the  most  susceptible,  and  at  length  the  most  perfect  representa- 
tive of  his  Master's  spirit. 

^ * 


a- 


-a 


A    TIME   OF  JOY.  227 

It  will  be  well  to  look  back,  before  considering  that  remark- 
able discourse  of  Christ's,  familiarly  called  the  "  Sermon  on  the 
Mount,"  and  to  consider  the  character  of  his  teaching  in  this  the 
first  period  of  his  ministry.  We  shall  be  struck  Avith  three 
thino-s :  the  stimulating  character  indicated,  the  remarkable  part- 
nership of  word  and  deed,  and  the  absence  qf  any  public  claim 
to  the  Messiahship.  This  latter  fact  is  the  more  remarkable, 
since,  in  his  conversation  with  the  woman  of  Samaria,  he  dis- 
tinctly avows  himself  to  be  the  Messiah.  Nowhere  is  there  evi- 
dence that  he  proclaimed  this  truth  in  his  public  discourses,  and 
in  the  abstracts  and  fragments  which  were  preserved  there  is 
nothing  of  the  kind.  Neither  does  there  seem  to  have  been  that 
presentation  of  himself  as  the  soiu'ce  of  spiritual  life  that  is  so 
wonderful  at  a  later  stage  of  his  teaching.  He  apparently  aimed 
first  at  the  work  of  arousing  the  moral  sense  of  the  people.  His 
characteristic  theme  at  first  was,  "Repent!  The  kingdom  of 
heaven  is  at  hand  ! "  It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  he  went 
from  place  to  place  uttering  these  words  as  a  text  or  formula. 
They  rather  describe  the  genius  of  his  preaching.  It  aroused  in 
men  an  ideal  and  expectation  of  a  nobler  life  than  they  and 
their  fellows  were  living ;  and  stimulated  a  wholesome  moral  dis- 
content. Men's  hearts  were  laid  open.  Not  only  their  sins,  but 
the  sources  and  motives  of  their  evil  deeds,  were  made  bare. 
Then  his  audiences  began  to  hear  a  vivid  exposition  of  life.  Un- 
like the  Rabbis,  he  did  not  spend  his  time  in  mincing  texts  wnth 
barren  ingenuity.  Men  heard  their  actions  called  in  question. 
They  heard  their  pride,  their  selfishness,  their  avarice,  their  lusts, 
so  exposed  that  self-condemnation  was  everywhere  mingled  with 
wonder  and  admiration. 

The  eftects  of  his  teaching  were  heightened  by  the  humanity 
of  his  miracles,  and  the  tender  sympathy  which  he  manifested 
for  the  temporal  comfort  of  men,  as  well  as  for  their  spiritual 
well-being.  Miracles  were  not  mere  explosions  of  power,  de- 
signed to  excite  transient  wonder.  They  w^ere  instruments  of 
kindness ;  they  unsealed  fountains  of  joy  long  closed ;  they 
tended  to  rectify  the  disorders  which  afflicted  thousands  of  un- 
happy and  neglected  wretches;  they  gave  emphasis  to  mstruc- 
tion ;  they  ratified  his  exhortations ;  they  gave  solemnity  to 
his  simple  methods.     The  miracles  of  Christ  cannot  be  taken  out 

t- -^ 


i^ -a 

228  rHE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CffRIST. 

of  their  life-connections  and  analyzed  by  themselves.  They 
were  to  his  teaching  what  gestures  are  to  an  orator,  that  go 
with  his  thoughts,  and  taken  alone  are  of  no  value.  They 
were  the  glowing  exjjressions  of  sympathy.  As  in  the  moods 
of  love,  the  eye,  the  lip,  the  face,  have  expressions  that  can- 
not be  separated  from  the  emotions  which  produce  them,  so 
was  it  with  Christ's  works  of  mercy.  They  were  not  philosophi- 
cal experiments  upon  nature,  nor  premeditated  evidences  of 
power.  They  were  the  inspirations  of  a  tender  sympathy  with 
human  suffering,  the  flashes  of  the  light  of  love,  the  arms  of 
God  stretched  forth  for  the  rescue  or  consolation  of  the  poor 
and  needy. 

While  the  early  preaching  of  Jesus  seems  to  have  been  of  the 
most  arousing  character,  we  are  not  to  suppose  that  instructive- 
ness  was  sacrificed,  nor  that  the  next  period,  beginning  with  the 
"Sermon  on  the  Mount,"'  was  devoid  of  pungency  because  the 
instructive  elements  predominated.  Only  to  arouse  men,  and  to 
leave  them  no  solid  substance  of  thought,  is  to  kindle  a  fire  of 
shavings  that  but  flames  up  and  dies  in  ashes. 

The  words  of  Christ,  primarily  addressed  to  the  people  of  his 
own  age  and  country',  carried  in  them  truths  so  deep  and  uni- 
versal, that,  like  an  inexhaustible  soil,  they  have  fed  the  roots 
of  religious  life  for  the  world  ever  since,  and  have  had  a  stronger 
hold  upon  the  intellect  and  the  fancy  than  that  Grecian  litera- 
ture which  for  philosophical  acuteness,  for  grace,  and  for  quali- 
ties of  the  imagination  would  seem  fir  more  likely  to  control 
the  world  of  thought  than  the  homely  domestic  aphorisms  and 
parables  of  the  Saviour.  In  every  element  of  external  excellence 
the  Greek  surpassed  the  Hebrew.  But  the  Hebrew  carried  in 
his  soul  two  worlds,  the  Greek  only  one.  The  Greek  was  busy 
with  the  world  he  lived  in ;  the  Hebrew  concerned  himself  with 
the  folks  that  lived  in  the  world.  More  than  this,  it  was  the 
inspiration  of  the  life  to  come  that  gave  such  enduring  force 
to  the  teaching  of  Je.sus.  His  sjmipathy  with  both  sides  of  hu- 
man experience,  its  joy  and  its  sorrow,  its  genial  domestic  tran- 
quillity and  its  outreach  and  enterprise,  its  sweet  contentment 
and  its  passionate  aspiration,  gave  to  his  teachings  a  quality  not 
to  be  found  in  any  school  but  his.  And,  above  all  other  things, 
his  teachings  had  himself  for  a  background.  He  was  the  per- 
t 


#- ^ — -a 

A    TIME   OF  JOT.  229 

petual  illustration  of  his  own  Avords,  the  interpretation  of  the 
deeper  spiritual  enigmas. 

And  yet  there  is  an  important  sense  in  which  the  preaching 
of  Jesus  was  strangely  unworldly.  It  was  not  such  discourse  as 
in  Greece  made  orators  famous.  So  devoid  was  it  of  secular 
elements,  that  one  would  not  know  from  it  that  Palestine  was 
overrun  with  foreigners,  —  that  the  iron  hand  and  iron  heel  of 
Rome  wellnigh  pressed  the  life  out  of  the  nation,  —  that  the 
provinces  were  glowing  with  luxuries,  cities  everywhere  spring- 
ing up,  while  the  people,  ground  down  by  extortion,  were  be- 
coming wretched  and  desperate.  Jesus  was  a  Jew,  susceptible 
and  sympathetic  to  a  remarkable  degree.  There  was  never  such 
a  field  for  patriotic  oratory.  But  amid  insurrections  cruelly 
quelled,  amid  the  anguish  of  his  people,  he  let  fall  no  single 
word  of  secular  eloquence.  Amidst  the  tumults  of  war  and  the 
prodigalities  of  foreign  luxury  and  wasteful  dissipation  was  heard 
the  calm  discourse  of  heavenly  themes.  It  was  of  the  soul,  of 
that  new  and  jjossible  soul,  that  he  spake,  —  and  so  spake  that 
all  the  nation  took  heed,  and  the  sordid  common  people,  rushing 
after  him  for  bread,  paused,  listened,  and,  -wondering,  declared 
"  he  speaks  with  authority."  Something  more  critical  of  his 
method  of  discourse  we  shall  submit  by  and  by.  Here  we  only- 
point  out  the  eminent  unworldliness  of  it,  and  the  introduction 
of  a  searching  personal  element  unknown  before,  but  now  so 
much  a  part  of  Christianity  that  we  fail  to  appreciate  its  origi- 
nality in  Christ.  We  mean  the  individualizing  of  discourse  to 
each  heart,  so  that  every  man  felt  that  it  was  addressed  to  him, 
concerning  himself,  —  his  spiritual  self 


^Q— ^ 


cR a 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

THE  SERMON  ON  THE  MOUNT.  — THE   BEATITUDES. 

THE  customs  of  his  country  would  naturally  lead  Jesus  to 
be  much  abroad,  and  he  seems  to  have  had  a  peculiar  love 
for  the  open  fields.  His  journeys,  his  habits  of  teaching  by  the 
way,  his  frequent  resorting  to  the  sea-side  and  to  the  solitude 
of  the  hills,  impress  one  with  the  belief  that  he  loved  the  open 
air  far  more  than  the  house  or  the  street.  It  is  certain  that  while 
at  Capernaum  he  had  sought  out  places  of  seclusion,  and  had 
his  own  familiar  haunts.  These  were  not  simply  for  rest  to  the 
body,  but  also  for  meditation  and  for  communion  with  his 
Father.  Wherever  he  went,  Jesus  found  out  these  natural 
sanctuaries ;  while  for  the  benefit  of  othei's  he  often  taught  in 
synagogues  and  in  the  Temple,  for  his  own  refreshment  he  loved 
better  the  wilderness,  the  lake-shore,  the  hill-top,  the  shaded 
ravine,  or  the  twilight  of  the  olive-groves. 

Such  a  resort  he  found  on  the  summit  of  Mount  Hattin,  a 
hill  rising  from  the  plain  about  seven  miles  southwesterly  from 
Capernaum.  It  was  more  an  upland  than  a  mountain.  The 
two  horns,  or  summits,  rise  only  sixty  feet  above  the  table-lands 
which  constitute  the  base,  and  the  whole  elevation  is  but  about 
a  thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  From  the  summit 
toward  the  east  one  may  look  over  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  and  north- 
ward, along  the  broken  ranges,  to  the  snow-clad  peaks  of  Leb- 
anon.^ 

'  "  This  mountain,  or  hill,  —  for  it  only  rises  sixty  feet  above  the  plain,  —  is  that  known 
to  pilgrims  as  the  Mount  of  the  Beatitudes,  the  supposed  scene  of  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount.  The  tradition  cannot  lay  claim  to  any  early  date ;  it  was  in  all  probability 
suggested  first  to  the  Crusaders  by  its  remarkable  situation.  But  that  situation  so  strik- 
ingly coincides  with  the  intimations  of  the  Gospel  narrative  as  almost  to  force  the  infer- 
ence that  in  this  instance  the  eyes  of  those  who  selected  the  spot  were  for  once  rightly 
directed.     It  is  the  only  height  seen  in  this  dhection  from  the  shores  of  the  Lake  of  Gen- 


fr' 


c&- -ft 

THE  SERMON  ON  THE  MOUNT  231 

Returning  from  a  preaching  tour,  Jesus,  and  with  him  the 
immense  and  motley  throng  that  now  everywhere  pressed  upon 
him,  reached  this  neighborhood  at  evening.  Not  waiting  for 
his  voluntary  blessings,  the  multitudes  sought  to  touch  his  very 
garments,  that  they  might  receive  benefit  from  that  virtue 
which  seemed  to  emanate  from  his  person.  Gliding  from  among 
them  as  the  shadows  fell,  he  hid  himself  from  their  importu- 
nity in  some  part  of  the  mountain.  Here  he  spent  the  night  in 
jjrayer. 

There  is  no  part  of  the  history  of  Jesus  that  stirs  the  im- 
agination more  profoundly  than  these  solitary  nights,  in  lonely 
places,  spent  in  prayer.  It  surely  was  not  a  service  of  mere 
recitation,  nor  such  implorations  as  the  soul,  wounded  by  sin, 
full  of  fear  and  remorse,  pours  out  before  God.  We  must  con- 
ceive of  it  as  a  holy  conference  with  God.  He  who  came  down 
from  heaven  again  returns  to  its  communion.  Weighed  down 
and  impaired  by  evil,  the  soul  of  man  sometimes  rises  above 
the  consciousness  of  its  bodily  condition,  and  rejoices  in  an 
almost  accomplished  liberty.  Much  more  may  we  suppose  that 
in  these  hours  of  retirement  the  sinless  soul  of  the  Saviour, 
loosed  from  all  consciousness  of  physical  fatigue,  hunger,  or 
slumberous  languor,  rejoined  its  noble  companions,  tasted  again 
its  former  libert}-,  and  walked  with  God.  But  we  can  hardly 
suppose  that  in  these  exalted  hours  he  forgot  those  who  all  day 
long  tasked  his  sympathy.  Did  not  he  who  on  the  cross  prayed 
for  his  enemies,  on  the  mountain  pray  for  his  friends  ?  Did  not 
he  who  now  "  ever  liveth  to  make  intercession  "  for  his  follow- 

esareth.  Tlie  plain  on  which  it  stands  is  easily  accessible  from  the  lake,  and  from  that 
plain  to  the  summit  is  but  a  few  minutes'  walk.  The  platform  at  the  top  is  evidently 
suitable  for  the  collection  of  a  multitude,  and  corresponds  precisely  to  the  '  level  place  ' 
(Luke  vi.  17,  mistranslated  'plain')  to  which  he  would  'come  down'  as  from  one  of 
its  higher  horns  to  address  the  people.  Its  situation  is  central  both  to  the  peasants 
of  the  Galilean  hills  and  the  fishermen  of  the  Galilean  lake,  between  which  it  stands, 
and  would  therefore  be  a  natural  resort  both  to  Jesus  and  his  disciples  (Matthew  iv. 
25 '—v.  1)  when  they  retired  for  solitude  from  the  shores  of  the  sea,  and  also  to  the 
crowds  who  assembled  '  from  Galilee,  from  Decapolis,  from  Jerusalem,  from  Judjea,  and 
from  beyond  Jordan '  None  of  the  other  mountains  in  the  nei<;hborhood  could  answer 
equally  well  to  this  description,  inasmuch  as  they  are  merged  into  the  uniform  barrier  of 
hills  round  the  lake,  whereas  this  stands  separate,  — '  the  mountain.'  —  which  alone  could 
lay  claim  to  a  distinct  name,  with  the  exception  o''  the  one  height  of  Tabor,  which  is 
too  distant  to  answer  the  requirements." — Stanley's  Sinai  and  Palestine,  pp.  360, 
361  (-'d  ed.  3G8,  369). 

^ & 


c0- -a 

232  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

ers  intei'cede  often,  when  he  was  with  them,  for  the  throng  of 
ignorant,  impoverished,  bewildered  people  that  swarmed  about 
his  footsteps  ? 

Neither  Mark  nor  John  mentions  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount, 
which  was  delivered  on  the  morning  following  this  retirement. 
Luke  gives  a  condensed  report  of  it,  adding,  however,  the  woes 
which  correspond  to  the  Beatitudes.  Matthew  gives  by  far  the 
fullest  recital  of  it.  Luke  says  that  he  stood  upon  the  plain 
(or,  a  level  place),  but  Matthew,  that  he  went  up  out  of  the 
plain  to  the  mountain,  and  there  delivered  the  discourse. 
When,  after  a  night  of  prayer,  Jesus  came  doAvn  to  the  lower 
parts  of  the  hill,  he  found  there  the  great  crowds  which  the  day 
before  had  attended  him.  Nor  is  it  unlikely  that  he  addressed 
to  them  words  of  instruction.  Then,  withdrawing  higher  up 
the  hill,  accompanied  l)y  the  Apostles  and  by  numbers  of  his 
general  disciples,  he  sat  down,  as  was  the  manner  of  Jewish 
instructors,  and  delivered  the  discourse  recorded  by  Matthew. 
Luke,  not  having  been  a  witness  of  the  scene,  and  manifestly 
giving  but  a  partial  and  general  accoimt  of  it,  naturally  speaks 
of  the  sermon  as  delivered  on  the  plain,  because  the  multitude 
was  there,  and  because  Jesus  came  down  and  began  his  in- 
structions there.  Matthew,  who  was  present  as  one  of  the 
recently  selected  Apostles,  gives  the  main  discourse  of  the 
day,  and  states  also,  that,  on  account  of  the  multitude,  Jesus 
retired  farther  up  the  mountain  before  delivering  it.  But 
though  addressed  to  his  more  immediate  disciples,  it  is  not 
to  be  supposed  that  they  alone  heard  the  discourse.  It  was 
natural  that  many  of  the  throng  should  follow  them.  This 
would  be  especially  the  case  with  those  in  whose  hearts  the 
word  had  begun'  to  excite  a  spiritual  hunger,  and  who,  though 
not  ready  to  call  themselves  disciples,  lost  no  opportunity  of 
increasing  their  knowledge. 

The  opinion  that  Matthew  collected  from  his  Master's  various 
teachings  at  different  times  the  elements  of  the  Sermon  on 
the  Mount,  and  arranged  them  into  one  discourse,  although 
formerly  held  by  many,  and  by  one  of  no  less  repute  than 
Calvin,  has  lost  ground,  and  is  now  taught  by  only  a  few.  The 
fact  that  portions  of  the  matter  of  this  sermon  appear  in  the 
other    Gospels    as    spoken    under    different    circumstances    may 

^ 


cp- -^ 

THE  SERMON  ON  THE  310 UN T.  233 

make  it.  probable  that  Jesus  repeated  important  truths  or  strik- 
ing illustrations  to  diflerent  audiences.^  Jt  is  not,  therefore, 
unlikely  that  portions  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  were  thus 
delivered  elsewhere  and  under  other  circumstances. 

That  contrast  between  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  and  the 
giving  of  the  law  on  Sinai,  which  from  an  early  day  it  has 
been  the  delight  of  commentators  to  suggest,  has  in  fact  more 
reason  than  one  is  likely  at  first  to  suppose.  No  contrast  could 
be  greater  than  the  gaunt  and  barren  wilderness  of  Sinai  and 
the  luxuriant  fields  of  Galilee  about  the  Sea  of  Genesareth  ;  nor 
could  the  blighted  peaks  of  Sinai  well  have  a  more  absolute 
contrast  than  in  the  fruitful  slopes  of  Hattin,  which  in  suc- 
cessive ledges  declined  toward  the  lake,  at  evexy  step  beautiful 
with  diversified  vegetation  and  redolent  with  the  odors  of  fruits 
and  blossoms.  If  the  more  ancient  assembly  were  taking  the 
first  steps  from  a  servile  existence  to  a  national  life  of  inde- 
pendence, so  the  multitudes  that  thronged  to  hear  the  Sermon 
on  the  Mount  were  about  to  be  inducted  into  a  new  spiritual  life. 
The  law  given  from  Sinai  was  a  law  of  morality,  and  chiefly  con- 
cerned the  outward  conduct.  The  Semion  on  the  Mount  is  like- 
wise a  discourse  of  morality,  but  transcendently  higher  than 
that  which  was  written  upon  the  tables  of  stone.  The  root  of 
morality  is  always  the  same,  but  at  different  stages  of  its  growth 
it  puts  forth  different  developments.  In  the  early  and  rude 
state  of  nations  it  concenis  itself  with  outward  afiairs,  rigorously 
guards  the  laws  by  which  alone  society  can  exist,  and  preserves 
the  life,  the  person,  and  the  property  of  the  citizen.  As  civiliza- 
tion refines  men's  nature,  and  brings  into  power  more  of  reason 
and  of  moral  sentiment,  morality,  still  guarding  external  things, 
adds  to  its  charge  the  interior  qualities  of  the  disposition,  and 
holds  men  responsible,  not  only  for  actions,  but  for  the  motives 
of  action.  It  extends  its  sway  over  the  realm  of  thought, 
emotion,  and  the  will.  Thus  it  adds  province  to  province,  until 
the  boundary  between  morality  and  the  purest  spiritual  religion 
is  indistinguishable  ;  and  men  at  length  see  that  morality,  in 
the   ordinary  sense   of  the  term,  is  religion  applied   to  human 


t- 


'  Compare  Maltlipw  v.  18,  and  Luke  xii.  .58;  Matthew  \i.  19-21  and  Luke  xii.  33; 
Matthew  vi.  24,  and  Luke  xvi.  13  ;  Matthew  vii.  13,  and  Luke  xiii.  24  ;  Matthew  vii.  22, 
and  Luke  xiii.  25  -  27. 


-ff 


a- -^ 

234  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

conduct,  while  religion  is  but  moralitj  acting  in  the  sphere 
of  the  spiritual  sentiments. 

Jesus  came  to  bring  a  new  growth  to  the  old  roots,  to  bring 
into  bloom  that  which  had  only  shown  leaves,  and  into  fruit  that 
which  had  hitherto  only  blossomed.  All  the  superstitions  and 
bui'densome  ceremonials  which  overlaid  the  simplicity  of  the 
original  statutes  of  Moses  were  to  l^e  rescinded,  and  the  ma- 
chinery of  the  Mosaic  Law  itself,  not  the  moral  element  of  it,  was 
to  be  abrogated.  But  that  great  law  of  universal  love  which 
was  to  bind  men  to  each  other,  and  all  of  them  to  God,  Jesus 
declared  to  be  at  the  foundation  of  the  Jewish  religion.  The 
whole  civil  and  ceremonial  system  of  the  Hebrews  aimed  at 
the  production  of  universal  love. 

One  would  scarcely  know  from  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount 
whether  the  Jews  had  altar  or  temple,  priests  or  ritual.  The 
piu-e  Avlieat  is  here  garnered;  the  straw  and  chaff,  so  needful 
for  its  growth,  but  now  in  its  ripeness  so  useless,  and  even  per- 
nicious, were  cleared  away.  It  is  a  discourse  of  the  past  for  the 
sake  of  the  future. 

To  interpret  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  as  the  charter  of 
Christianity,  is  to  misconceive  not  only  this  discourse,  but  the 
very  nature  of  Christianity  itself,  which  is  not  a  system  of  new 
truths,  but  a  higher  development  of  existing  forces. 

The  fulness  of  time  had  come.  Man  was  to  be  lifted  to  a 
higher  plane,  and  made  accessible  to  more  powerful  influences 
than  could  be  exerted  through  the  old  dispensation.  Out  of 
that  grand  renewal  of  human  nature  there  would  spring  up 
truths  innumerable,  the  products  of  Christianity.  But  Chris- 
tianity itself  was  not  a  system  of  truths,  nor  the  result  of  a 
system  of  truths,  but  a  name  for  living  forces.  It  was  a  new 
dispensation  of  power,  an  efflux  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  developing 
the  latent  spiritual  forces  in  man.  It  was  the  kingdom  of  God 
among  men.  It  was  like  the  diffusion  of  a  new  and  more  fer- 
vid climate  over  a  whole  continent.  A.  development  and  per- 
fection would  follow,  never  before  known,  and  impossible  to  a 
lower  temperature.  The  one  silver  thread  which  runs  through 
the  Gospels  and  the  Epistles,  and  binds  them  into  unity,  is  the 
indwelling  of  the  Divine  Spirit  in  the  human  soul,  and  the 
enlarged  scope  and  power  of  human  life  by  reason  of  it. 

[^ ^ 


fh ^ 

THE  SERMON  ON   THE  MOUNT.  235 

John  saw  the  radiant  kingdom  descending  when  he  cried, 
"  There  cometh  one  mightier  than  I  after  me,  ....  he  shall 
baptize  you  with  the  Holy  Ghost."  And  when  Jesus  came, 
the  same  truth  was  thrown  forward  in  advance  of  all  others: 
"  The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at  hand.  Cast  out  all  evil !  Lay 
open  your  souls  to  the  Divine  coming  !  "  Repentance  and  for- 
giveness were  not  the  gospel.  The  kingdom  of  God  among 
men,  an  exaltation  of  the  race  by  the  Divine  union  with  it, 
the  wisdom  of  God  and  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation, — 
this  was  the  good  news. 

But  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  is  deficient  in  precisely  these 
elements.  It  has  in  it  no  annunciation  of  a  new  dispensation. 
That  flame  of  fire,  the  Spirit  of  God,  is  not  mentioned.  Jesus 
does  not  there  claim  for  himself  any  vital  relation  to  the  human 
soul ;  that  faith  which  so  largely  filled  his  subsequent  teachings 
is  not  alluded  to.  He  does  not  even  claim  the  Messiahship. 
There  is  no  word  of  his  sufferings  and  death,  nor  of  his  future 
mediation,  nor  of  the  doctrine  of  repentance  and  the  new  birth. 
Can  that  be  an  epitome  of  Christianity  which  leaves  out  the 
great  themes  which  filled  the  later  teaching  of  Jesus  ? 

The  Sermon  on  the  Mount  gathers  up  the  sum  of  all  that  had 
been  gained  under  the  Jewish  dispensation, —  distinguishes  be- 
tween the  original  and  genuine  elements  of  truth  in  the  Jewish 
belief,  and  the  modern  and  perverse  inculcations  of  the  Ral)bis, 
—  and,  above  all,  gives  to  fomiliar  things  a  new  spiritual  force 
and  authority. 

At  the  threshold  of  the  new  life  it  was  wise  to  ascertain  what 
was  real  and  what  fictitious  in  the  belief  of  the  people.  A 
repudiation  of  the  Law  and  the  prophets  would  have  bewildered 
their  moral  sense  ;  but  the  truth  of  their  fathers,  cleansed  from 
glosses,  pure  and  simple,  would  become  the  instrument  for  Avork- 
ing  that  very  repentance  which  would  prepare  them  for  the 
new  life  of  God  in  the  soul. 

Men  are  fond  of  speaking  of  the  originality  of  the  Sermon 
on  the  Mount ;  but  originality  would  have  defeated  its  very 
aim.  All  growth  must  sprout  from  roots  pre-existing  in  the 
soul.  There  can  be  no  new,  except  by  the  help  of  some  old. 
To  have  spread  out  a  novel  field  of  unfamiliar  truth  before  the 
people  might  have  led  them  to  speculation,  but  could  not  have 

^ 


236  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,    THE  CHRIST. 

aroused  their  conscience,  nor  rebuked  the  degradiation  of  their 
natures  and  the  sordidness  of  their  lives.  It  was  the  very  aim 
of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  to  place  before  the  Jews,  in  the 
clearest  light,  the  great  truths  out  of  which  sprung  their  Law 
and  their  prophets,  as  a  preparation  for  the  new  and  higher 
developments  that  Avould  come  afterwards.  In  so  doing  Jesus 
put  himself  into  the  confidence  of  his  own  people.  To  the 
sober-minded  among  his  countrymen  he  never  seemed  a  sub- 
verter  of  Hebrew  customs,  or  an  innovator  upon  the  national 
religion.  He  was  recognized  everywhere  by  the  common  peo- 
ple, and  by  all  earnest  natures  not  wrought  into  the  Pharisaic 
party,  as  a  genuine  Heljrew  prophet,  standing  on  the  very 
ground  of  the  fathers,  and  enunciating  old  and  familiar  truths, 
but  giving  to  them  a  scope  and  a  spiritual  elevation  which, 
though  new,  was  neither  strange  nor  unnatural. 

The  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  then,  being  in  the  nature  of  an 
historical  review,  could  not  be  original.  It  was  a  criticism  of 
the  received  doctrine.  Every  part  of  it  brings  down  to  us  the 
odor  and  flavor  of  the  best  days  and  the  ripest  things  of  the 
Old  Testament  dispensation.  It  was  the  mount  from  which 
men  looked  over  into  the  promised  land  of  the  spirit.  Even 
the  Beatitudes,  an  exquisite  prelude,  Avhich  seems  like  a  solemn 
hymn  sung  before  a  service,  are  but  a  collection  and  Ijetter 
ordering  of  maxims  or  aphorisms  which  existed  in  the  Old  Tes- 
tament. 

Already  Isaiah  had  heard  (Jod  saying,  "I  dwell  in  the  high 
and  hoi}-  place,  with  him  also  that  is  of  a  contrite  and  humble 
spirit."  And  the  Psalmist  had  said,  "A  broken  and  a  contrite 
heart,  0  God,  thou  wilt  not  despise."  Already  the  prophet  had 
promised  "  Beauty  for  ashes,  the  oil  of  joy  for  mourning,  and 
the  garment  of  praise  for  the  spirit  of  heaviness " ;  and  the 
wise  man  had  said,  "  Sorrow  is  better  than  laughter."  From 
the  Psalmist  were  taken  almost  the  words  of  benediction  to 
the  meek  :  "  The  meek  shall  inherit  the  earth,  and  shall  delight 
themselves  in  the  abundance  of  peace."  Where  is  there  a 
hunger  and  thirst  of  the  soul,  if  it  be  not  recorded  in  the 
forty-second  Psalm  ?  This  Psalm  is  broken  into  two,  the  forty- 
second  and  forty-third,  and  three  times  the  refrain  comes  in, 
"I  shall  yet  praise  him  who  is   the  help  of  my  countenance." 


t& 


-^ 


^ -^ 

THE  SERMON  ON  THE  MOUNT.  '         237 

There  are  abundant  blessings  pronounced  upon  the  merciful, 
upon  the  pure  in  heart,  upon  the  persecuted  for  righteousness' 
sake  ;  and  even  in  the  old  warlike  age  peace  was  not  uncele- 
brated. If  there  be  no  distinct  blessing  for  peacemakers,  there 
are  numberless  woes  denounced  against  those  who  stir  up  strife 
and  cruel  war. 

The  Beatitudes,  then,  were  not  new  principles  ;  the  truth  in 
them  had  been  recognized  before.  They  were  truths  hidden  in 
the  very  nature  of  the  soul,  and,  in  the  best  sense,  natural. 
But  formerly  they  lay  scattered  as  pearls  not  detached  from 
the  parent  shell,  or  as  rough  diamonds  unground.  Here  they 
first  appear  in  brilliant  setting.  They  are  no  longer  happy 
sayings,  but  sovereign  principles.  They  always  spoke  with 
instructiveness,  but  now  with  authority,  as  if  they  wore  crowns 
upon  their  heads. 

There  was  a  noble  strangeness  in  them.  The  whole  world  Avas 
acting  in  a  spirit  contrary  to  them.  They  conflicted  with  every 
sentiment  and  maxim  of  common  life.  On  a  lonely  hill-top  sat 
one  known  to  have  been  reared  as  a  mechanic,  pronouncing  to  a 
group  of  peasants,  fishermen,  mechanics,  and  foreigners  the  sub- 
lime truths  of  the  higher  and  interior  life  of  the  soul,  which 
have  since  by  universal  consent  been  deemed  the  noblest  utter- 
ances of  earth.  The  traveller  may  to-day  stand  in  Antwerp, 
near  the  old  cathedral,  hearing  all  the  clatter  of  business,  a 
thousand  feet  tramping  close  up  to  the  walls  and  buttresses 
against  which  lean  the  booths,  a  thousand  tongues  rattling  the 
language  of  traffic,  when,  as  the  hour  strikes  from  above,  a 
shower  of  notes  seems  to  descend  from  the  spire,  —  bell  notes, 
fine,  sweet,  small  as  a  bird's  warble,  the  whole  air  full  of  crisp 
tinklings,  underlaid  by  the  deeper  and  sonorous  tones  of  large 
bells,  but  all  of  them  in  fit  sequences  pouring  forth  a  melody 
that  seems  unearthly,  and  the  more  because  in  such  contrast 
with  the  scenes  of  vulgar  life  beneath.  In  some  such  way  must 
these  words  have  follen  upon  the  multitude. 

Whether  the  audience  felt  the  sweetness  and  exquisite  beauty 
of  Christ's  opening  sentences  we  cannot  know.  They  are  the 
choicest  truths  of  the  old  dispensation  set  to  the  spirit  of  the 
new.  But  not  until,  like  bells,  they  were  thus  set  in  chimes 
and  rung  in  the  spirit  and  melody  of  the  spiritual  age,  could 

[jg ^ 


a- 


■a 


238 


THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE    CHRIST. 


one  have  dreamed  how  noble  they  were.  And  what  blessings  ! 
When  before  did  such  a  company  of  ills  and  misfortunes  find 
themselves  mustered  and  renamed  ?  No  word  of  commenda- 
tion for  wealth,  or  favor,  or  high  estate,  or  power,  or  pleasure. 
For  all  that  the  world  was  striving  after  with  incessant  industry 
there  was  no  benediction.  Congratulations  were  reserved  for 
the  evils  which  all  men  dreaded,  —  poverty,  sorrow,  persecu- 
tion, and  the  hatred  of  men,  —  or  for  qualities  which  men 
thought  to  be  the  signs  of  weakness.  Could  his  disciples 
understand  such  paradoxes  ?  We  know  that  they  did  not  until 
after  the  descent  upon  them  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  at  a  later  day. 
Still  less  would  the  rude  multitude  comprehend  such  mysterious 
sayings,  so  profoundly  true,  but  true  in  relation  to  conditions 
of  soul  of  whicli  they  had  no  conception.  The  real  man  was 
invisible  to  their  eyes.  Only  the  outward  life  was  known  to 
them,  the  life  of  the  body,  and  of  the  mind  only  as  the  ready 
minister  to  bodily  enjoyments ! 

"Blessed  are  the  poor  m  spirit." 

Not  poverty  of  thought,  nor  of  courage,  nor  of  emotion,- — 
not  empty-mindedness,  nor  any  idea  implying  a  real  lack  of 
strength,  variety,  and  richness  of  nature,  —  was  here  intended. 
It  was  to  be  a  consciousness  of  moral  incompleteness.  As 
the  sense  of  poverty  in  this  world's  goods  inspires  men  to  en- 
terprise, so  the  consciousness  of  a  poverty  of  manliness  might 
be  expected  to  lead  to  earnest  endeavors  for  moral  growth. 
This  first  sentence  was  aimed  full  at  that  supreme  self-com- 
placencj^  Avhich  so  generally  resulted  from  the  school  of  the 
Pharisee.  Paul's  interpretation  of  his  own  experience  illus- 
trates the  predominant  spirit.  He  once  had  no  higher  idea  of 
character  than  that  inculcated  in  the  Law  of  Moses,  and  he 
wrote  of  his  attainments :  "  Touching  the  righteousness  which 
is  in  the  law,  blameless."  (Phil.  iii.  6.)  He  was  a  perfect 
man ! 

The  land  was  full  of  "  perfect  men."  Groups  of  them  were 
to  be  found  in  every  synagogue.  To  be  sure  they  were 
worldly,  selfish,  ambitious,  vindictive,  but  without  the  con- 
sciousness of  being  the  worse  for  all  that.  Rigorous  exactitude 
in  a  visible   routine   gave   them  the   right  to  thank  God   that 


ft 


& 


a- -^ 

THE  SERMON   ON  THE  MOUNT.  239 

they  were  not  as  other  men  were.  For  such  men,  in  such 
moods,  there  could  be  no  spiritual  kingdom.  They  could 
never  sympathize  with  that  new  life  which  was  coming  upon 
the  world,  in  which  the  treasures  were  "  love,  joy,  peace,  long- 
suffering,  gentleness,  goodness,  faith,  meekness,  temperance." 
(Gal.  V.  22,  23.)  But  those  who  painfully  felt  the  poverty  of 
their  inward  nature  in  all  these  excellences  might  rise  to  the 
blessings  of  the  new  kingdom,  "  in  which  dweUeth  righteous- 
ness." 

In  a  world  so  full  of  trouble  a  thousand  modes  of  consolation 
have  been  sought,  a  thousand  ways  of  joy.  But  Jesus,  still 
looking  upon  the  invisible  manhood,  next  jioints  out  the  Divine 
road  to  happiness. 

"Blessed  are  they  that  mourn." 

For  perfect  beings  sorrow  is  not  needed  ;  but  to  creatures 
like  men,  seeking  to  escape  the  thrall  and  burden  of  animal 
life,  sorrow  is  helpful.  As  frosts  unlock  the  hard  shells  of  seeds 
and  help  the  germ  to  get  free,  so  trouble  develops  in  men 
the  germs  of  force,  patience,  and  ingenuity,  and  in  noble  na- 
tures "  works  the  peaceable  fruits  of  righteousness."  A  gen- 
tle schoolmaster  it  is  to  those  who  are  "  exercised  thereby." 
Tears,  like  raindrops,  have  a  thousand  times  follen  to  the 
ground  and  come  up  in  flowers.  All  the  good  in  this  Avorld 
which  has  risen  above  the  line  of  material  comfort  has  been 
born  from  some  one's  sorrow.  We  all  march  under  a  Cap- 
tain "  who  was  made  perfect  through  sufferings " ;  and  we 
are  to  find  peace  only  as  we  learn  of  him  in  the  school  of 
patience. 

Not  less  astonishing  than  the  value  put  upon  poverty  of 
spirit  and  mourning  must  have  seemed  the  next  promise  and 
prediction :  — 

"Blessed  are  the  meek,  for  they  shall  inherit  the  earth." 

Each  part  of  a  man's  mind  has  its  peculiar  and  distinctive 
excitement.  The  passions  and  appetites  give  forth  a  turbident 
and  exhausting  experience.  The  full  activity  of  the  domestic 
and  social  emotions  produces  excitement  less  harsh  and  violent, 
but  yet  tumultuous.      The  highest  conditions  of  the  soul's  ac- 


^ 


^ 


^ a 

240  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE  CHRIST. 

tivity  are  serene  and  tranquil.  It  is  to  this  superior  calm  of 
a  soul  that  is  living  in  the  continuous  activity  of  its  highest 
spiritual  sentiments  that  the  term  meekness  should  be  applied. 
It  designates  the  Avhole  temper  of  the  soul  in  the  range  of  its 
moral  and  spiritual  faculties.  The  appetites  and  passions  pro- 
duce a  boisterous  agitation  too  coarse  and  rude  for  real  pleasure. 
The  affections  develop  pleasure,  but  with  too  near  an  alliance 
to  our  lower  nature  for  tranquillity.  The  spiritual  portion  of 
the  soul  is  at  once  luminous  and  peaceful.  The  strength  of 
man  lies  in  those  faculties  which  are  farthest  removed  from  his 
animal  conditions.  It  is  in  the  spiritual  nature  that  manhood 
resides.  The  action  of  these  higher  sentiments  is  so  different 
in  result  from  the  violent  agitations  of  the  appetites  and  ]}ivii- 
sions,  that  man  may  well  speak  of  himself  as  a  duality,  a  union 
of  two  distinct  persons,  not  only  of  different,  but  of  opposite 
and  contradictory  experiences.  At  the  bottom  of  man's  nature 
lie  rude  strength,  coarse  excitements,  violent  fluctuations,  ex- 
hausting impulses.  At  the  top  of  man's  nature  the  soul  puts 
forth  continuous  life  almost  without  fatigue,  is  tranquil  under 
intense  activities,  and  is  full  of  the  light  of  moral  intuitions. 
Meekness  is  generally  thought  to  be  a  sweet  jjenignity  under 
pi'ovocation.  But  provocation  only  discloses,  and  does  not  cre- 
ate it.  It  exists  as  a  generic  mood  or  condition  of  soul,  inde- 
pendent of  those  causes  which  may  bring  it  to  light.  In  this 
state,  power  and  peace  are  harmonized,  —  activity  and  tranquil- 
litA",  joy  and  calmness,  all-seeingness  without  violence  of  desire. 
From  these  nobler  fountains  chiefly  are  to  flow  those  influences 
which  shall  control  the  world. 

Man  the  animal  has  hitherto  possessed  the  globe.  Man  the 
divine  is  yet  to  take  it.  The  struggle  is  going  on.  But  in 
every  cycle  more  and  more  does  the  world  feel  the  superior 
authority  of  truth,  puritv,  justice,  kindness,  love,  and  faith. 
They  shall  _yet  possess  the  earth.  In  these  three  opening  sen- 
tences how  deep  are  the  insights  given !  The  soul  beholds 
its  meagreness  and  poverty,  it  longs  with  unutterable  desire  to 
be  enriched,  it  beholds  the  ideal  state  luminous  with  peace  and 
full  of  power. 

But  now  the  discour.se  rises  from  these  interior  states  to 
more  active  elements.      Amidst  the  conflicting  elements  of  life 

tfe- ^ 


cB- ^ ^ 

THE  SERMON  ON  THE  MOUNT.  241 

no  man  can  gain  any  important  moral  victories  by  mere  long- 
ing, or  by  rare  impulses,  or  by  feeble  purposes.  If  one  would 
reach  the  true  manhood,  the  spiritual  life,  of  the  new  kingdom, 
it  must  be  by  continuous  energy  during  his  entire  career.  In 
the  whole  routine  of  daily  life,  in  the  treatment  of  all  cares, 
temptations,  strifes,  and  experiences  of  every  kind,  the  one  pre- 
dominant purpose  must  be  the  perfection  of  manhood  in  our- 
selves. 

"Blessed  are  they  who  do  hunger  aistd  thirst  after 
righteousness,  for  they  shall  be  filled." 

The  life  of  the  body,  its  strength  and  skill,  are  every  day 
built  up  by  the  food  which  hunger  craves.  And  as  hunger  is 
not  a  rational  faculty,  and  does  not  depend  upon  any  of  the 
rational  faculties  for  its  action,  but  follows  the  internal  condition 
of  the  body,  and  is  an  automatic  sign  and  signal  of  the  waste 
or  repair  going  on  within ;  so  the  longing  for  uprightness  and 
goodness  must  be  a  deep-seated  and  incessant  importunity  of 
the  soul's  very  substance,  as  it  were,  acting,  not  upon  sugges- 
tion or  special  excitement,  but  self-aroused  and  continuous. 
To  such  a  desire  the  whole  world  becomes  a  ministering  ser- 
vant. All  this  is  strangely  in  contrast  with  the  life  of  man. 
The  fierce  conflict,  the  exacting  enterprise,  are  felt,  but  they 
expend  themselves  upon  externals.  They  seek  to  build  up  the 
estate,  to  augment  the  power,  to  multiply  physical  pleasures. 
In  the  new  life  the  strife  and  enterprise  are  to  be  none  the 
le.^s,  but  will  be  directed  toward  inward  qualities. 

These  four  Beatitudes  not  only  revealed  the  Divine  concep- 
tion of  the  new  spiritual  life,  but  they  stood  in  striking  contrast 
with  the  ideas  held  by  the  leaders  of  the  Jews.  The  Pharisees 
were  also  expecting  a  kingdom,  and  great  advantage  and  de- 
light. They  had  no  idea  of  the  joy  there  is  in  spiritual  sor- 
row. They  knew  nothing  of  the  sweet  tranquillity  of  meek- 
ness, and  to  them  nothing  seemed  so  little  likely  to  inherit  the 
earth.  Energetic  power,  invincible  zeal,  and  a  courage  that 
did  not  fear  disaster  or  death,  — these  would  win,  if  anything 
could.  The  Beatitudes,  thus  far,  must  have  been  profoundly 
unintelligible  to  Christ's  hearers.  What  wonder?  They  are 
even  yet  unintelligible  to  mankind. 

t- — ^ 


[p- -a 

242  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

"  Blessed  are  the  merciful,  for  they  shall  obtain  mercy." 

To  an  undeveloped  race,  struggling  ignorantly  forward  rather 
than  upward,  jostling,  contending,  quarrelling,  —  each  man  self- 
ish, but  demanding  that  others  should  be  kind,  —  each  one 
unjust,  but  clamoring  against  others  for  their  injustice,  —  each 
one  exacting,  severe,  or  cruel,  but  requiring  that  others  should 
be  lenient,  —  comes  the  word,  Blessed  are  the  merciful.  No  one 
thing  does  human  life  more  need  than  a  kind  consideration  of 
men's  fiiults.  Every  one  sins.  Every  one  needs  forbearance. 
Their  own  imperfections  should  teach  men  to  be  merciful.  God 
is  merciful  because  he  is  perfect.  Mercy  is  an  attribute  of  high 
moral  character.  As  men  grow  toward  the  Divine,  they  be- 
come gentle,  forgiving,  compassionate.  The  absence  of  a  mer- 
ciful spirit  is  evidence  of  the  want  of  true  holiness.  A  soul 
that  has  really  entered  into  the  life  of  Christ  carries  in  itself  a 
store  of  nourishment  and  a  cordial  for  helpless  souls  around 
it.  Whoever  makes  his  own  rigorous  life,  or  his  formal  pro- 
priety, or  his  exacting  conscience,  an  argument  for  a  condem- 
natory spirit  toward  others,  is  not  of  the  household  of  faith. 
Merciless  observers  of  men's  faults,  who  delight  in  finding  out 
the  evil  that  is  in  their  neighbors,  who  rejoice  in  exposing  the 
sins  of  evil-doers,  or  who  find  a  pleasure  in  counnenting  upon, 
or  ridiculing  the  mistakes  of  others,  show  themselves  to  be 
ignorant  of  the  first  element  of  the  Christian  religion. 

"  Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  see  God." 

Precisely  what  is  meant  by  "  purity  "  has  called  forth  much 
speculation.  But  it  should  be  remembered  that  the  whole  dis- 
course contains  either  a  latent  or  an  avowed  criticism  upon 
the  prevailing  notions  of  the  Jews  as  to  true  religion.  On  no 
point  were  the  Pharisees  more  scrupulous  than  that  of  Leviti- 
cal  purity.  This  had  no  direct  relation  in  their  minds  to  the 
inward  dispositions  and  purposes.  Impurity  was  contracted  by 
some  bodily  act,  and  was  removed  by  some  corresponding  ex- 
ternal ceremony.  There  were  some  seventy  specific  cases  of 
uncleanness  described  by  Jewish  writers,  and  others  were  ])0i^- 
sible.  A  conscientious  man  found  his  action  limited  on  every 
hand  by  fear  of  impurity,  or  by  the  rites  of  purification  which 

^ ^ 


a- — ^ 

THE  SERMON  ON   THE  MOUNT.  243 

were  required  in  case  of  defilement.  A  ceremony  designed 
to  inspire  a  moral  idea  by  a  physical  act  suffered  the  almost 
inevitable  fate  of  symbols,  and  ended  by  withdrawing  the  mind 
from  moral  states  and  fixing  it  superstitiously  upon  external 
deeds.  The  benediction  of  Jesus  was  upon  purity  of  heart,  as 
distinguished  from  legal  and  ceremonial  purity.  A  state  of 
heart  in  which  all  its  parts  and  faculties  should  be  morally  as 
free  from  the  contamination  of  passion,  selfishness,  injustice,  and 
insincerity  as  the  body  and  its  members  might  be  from  Levit- 
ical  defilement,  was,  without  doubt,  the  state  upon  which  the 
blessing  was  meant  to  rest.  But  the  promise  here  given,  "they 
shall  see  God,"  assumes  a  wider  view  and  a  more  profound 
philosophy.  There  can  be  no  knowledge  of  God  in  any  degree 
moral  and  spiritual,  which  does  not  come  to  man  through  some 
form  of  moral  intuition.  To  understand  justice,  one  must  have 
some  experience  of  justice.  There  could  arise  no  idea  of  love 
in  a,  soul  that  had  never  loved,  or  of  pity  in  one  who  had 
never  experienced  compassion.  Our  knowledge  of  the  moral 
attributes  of  God  must  take  its  rise  in  some  likeness,  or  germ 
of  resemblance,  in  us  to  that  which  we  conceive  is  the  Divine 
nature.  In  proportion  as  we  become  like  him,  the  elements 
of  understanding  increase.  The  soul  becomes  an  interpreter 
through  its  own  experiences.  They  only  can  understand  God 
Avho  have  in  themselves  some  moral  resemblance  to  him ;  and 
they  will  enter  most  largely  into  knowledge  who  are  most  in 
sympathy  with  the  Divine  life. 

"Blessed  are  the  peacemakers,  for  they  shall  be  called 

THE    children   of    GoD." 

Peace  is  not  a  negative  state,  a  mere  interval  between  two 
excitements.  In  its  highest  meaning  it  is  that  serenity  which 
joy  assumes,  not  only  when  single  faculties  are  excited,  but 
when  the  whole  soul  is  in  harmony  with  itself  and  full  of 
wholesome  activity.  An  original  disposition  which  dwells  in 
peace  by  the  fulness  and  the  inspiration  of  all  its  parts  is  a 
rare  gift.  One  whose  nature  unconsciously  diffuses  peace  is  veiy 
near  to  God.  Jesus  himself  never  seemed  so  divine  as  when, 
on  the  eve  of  his  arrest,  with  the  cloud  already  casting  its 
shadow   upon  him,  and    every   hour   bringing   him    consciously 

[fe- -^ 


c0 -a 

244  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE  CHRIST. 

nearer  to  the  great  agony,  he  said  to  his  humble  followers : 
"  Peace  I  leave  with  you.  My  peace  I  give  unto  30U."  There 
is  no  other  sign  of  Divinity  more  eminent  than  that  of  a  na- 
ture which  can  breathe  upon  men  an  atmosphere  of  peace. 
They  who  can  do  this,  even  imperfectly,  have  the  lineaments 
of  their  Parent  upon  them.     They  are  the  children  of  God. 

Far  out  from  the  centre  of  creative  power,  among  the  ele- 
ments of  nature,  there  is  wild  turbulence,  and  immense  ener- 
gies grapple  in  conflict.  As  the  universe  rises,  circle  above 
circle,  each  successive  sphere  loses  something  of  strife  and  de- 
velops some  tendency  to  harmony.  All  perfection  tends  toward 
peace.  In  that  innermost  circle,  where  the  God  dwells  in  very 
person,  peace  eternally  reigns.  The  energy  which  creates,  the 
universal  w'ill  Avhich  governs,  and  the  inconceivable  intellect 
that  watches  and  thinks  of  all  the  realm,  have  their  highest 
expression  in  a  perfect  peace.  Thus,  though  the  lower  stages 
of  being  are  full  of  agitations,  the  higher  stages  are  tranquil. 
The  universe  grows  sweet  as  it  grows  ripe.  "The  God  of 
peace "  is  the  highest  expression  of  perfect  being.  Whatever 
disturbance  is  raging  in  his  remote  creation.  He  dwells  in  eter- 
nal peace,  waiting  for  the  consummation  of  all  things.  There 
is,  then,  evident  reason  why  peacemakers  "  shall  be  called  the 
children  of  God." 

In  a  lower  way,  but  yet  in  close  S3^mpathy  with  this  supreme 
disposition  of  a  soul  in  harmony  with  God,  are  to  be  included 
all  voluntary  eflbrts  for  the  suppression  of  riotous  mischief  and 
for  the  promotion  of  kindness,  agreement,  concord,  and  peace 
among  men  and  between  nations.  While  malign  dispositions 
stir  up  strife,  a  benevolent  nature  seeks  to  allay  irritation,  to 
quiet  the  fierceness  of  temper,  and  to  subdue  all  harsh  and 
cruel  souls  to  the  law  of  kindness.  A  pacificator  will  make 
himself  the  benefixctor  of  any  neighborhood. 

It  is  true  that  peace  is  sometimes  so  hindered  by  means  of 
corrupt  passions  or  selfish  interests  that  there  must  be  a  strug- 
gle before  peace  can  exist.  "  I  came  not  to  send  peace,  but  a 
sword,"  was  our  Lord's  annunciation  of  this  fact.  A  conflict 
between  the  spirit  and  the  flesh  takes  place  in  every  individual 
and  in  every  community  that  is  growing  better.  It  is,  how- 
ever, but   transient  and   auxiliary.      Out   of  it   comes   a   higher 

^ ^ 


f 


-a 


THE  SERMON   ON  THE  MOUNT.  245 

life.  With  that  come  harmony  and  peace.  One  may  sacrifice 
jieace  by  neglecting  to  struggle,  and  one  may  seek  peace  by 
instituting  conflicts.  Love  must  overcome  selfishness,  even  if 
the  demon  in  departing  casts  down  its  victim  upon  the  ground 
and  leaves  him  as  one  dead. 

"  Blessed  are  they  which  are  persecuted  for  righteous- 
ness'  SAKE,   FOR  THEIRS   IS   THE   KINGDOM   OF   HEAVEN." 

All  the  elements  of  human  society  were  originally  organized 
by  the  force  of  reason  acting  in  its  lowest  plane,  —  selfishly. 
Little  by  little  the  animal  gave  way  to  the  social,  the  material 
to  the  spiritual,  and  room  began  to  be  found  in  the  secular  for 
the  eternal.  It  has  been  a  long  conflict.  It  is  a  conflict  still, 
and  will  continue  to  be  for  ages.  A  just  man  at  every  step 
finds,  some  one  whose  interests  turn  upon  injustice.  One  can- 
not make  the  truth  clear  and  stimulating  without  disturbing 
some  drowsy  error,  which  flies  out  of  its  cave  and  would  extin- 
guish the  light.  Not  only  have  pride  and  vanity  their  unlaw- 
ful sway,  but  every  passion  has  in  human  life  some  vested 
interest  which  truth  and  love  will  either  altogether  destroy, 
or  greatly  restrain  and  regulate. 

Now,  although  the  truth  when  presented  in  its  own  symme- 
try is  beautiful,  and  although  men,  unless  greatly  j^erverted, 
recognize  the  beauty  of  i-ighteousness,  yet  their  selfish  interests 
in  the  processes  of  life,  the  profit  or  pleasure  which  they  de- 
rive from  unrighteousness,  sweep  away  their  feeble  admiration, 
and  in  its  place  come  anger  and  opposition.  All  potential 
goodness  is  a  disturbing  force.  Benevolent  men  are  the  friends 
of  even  the  selfish,  but  selfish  men  feel  that  benevolence  is 
the  enemy  of  selfishness.  The  silent  example  of  a  good  man 
judges  and  condemns  the  conduct  of  bad  men.  Even  passive 
goodness  stands  in  the  way  of  active  selfishness.  But  when,  as 
was  to  be  the  case  in  the  new  spiritual  kingdom  heralded  by 
Christ,  good  men  acting  in  sympathy  should  seek  to  spread 
the  sway  of  moral  principles,  the  time  would  sjjeedily  arrive 
when  their  spirit  would  come  in  conflict  with  the  whole  king- 
dom of  darkness.  Then  would  arise  the  bitterest  opposition. 
Since  the  world  began,  it  has  not  been  permitted  to  any  one  to 
rise  within  himself  from  a  lower  to  a  higher  moral  state,  with- 


eg- 


-^ 


cR- 


246  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,  THE  CHRIST. 


^ 


IB- 


out  an  angry  conflict  on  the  j^art  of  his  inferior  faculties.  No 
part  of  human  society  has  been  allowed  to  develop  into  a  higher 
form  without  bitter  persecutions.  If  this  had  been  so  up  to 
that  era,  when  the  stages  were  tentative  and  preparatory,  how 
much  more  was  it  to  be  so  now,  when  the  fulness  of  time  had 
come,  and  the  followers  of  Christ  were  to  found  a  kingdom  in 
which  the  moral  and  spiritual  elements  were  to  predominate 
over  every  other ! 

But  persecution  which  is  caused  by  true  goodness  drives  men 
more  entirely  from  the  resources  of  the  animal  and  secular 
life,  and  develops  in  them  to  greater  strength  and  intensity 
their  truly  spiritual  or  divine  part ;  and  in  that  state  their  joys 
increase  in  elevation,  in  conscious  purity,  in  peacefulness.  They 
live  in  another  realm.  They  are  not  dependent  for  their  en- 
joyment upon  outward  circumstances,  nor  upon  the  remuner- 
ations of  social  life.  They  are  lifted  into  the  very  vicinage  of 
heaven.  They  hold  connnimion  with  God.  A  new  realm,  in- 
visible but  potential,  springs  up  around  tliem.  Dispossessed  of 
common  pleasures,  they  find  themselves  filled  with  other  joys, 
imspeakable  and  full  of  glory.  "  Theirs  is  the  kingdom  of 
heaven." 

Here  the  Beatitudes  end.  They  raise  in  the  mind  an  exalted 
conception  of  the  spiritual  manhood.  In  the  new  kingdom 
nuinhood  was  to  be  clothed  with  new  power.  It  had  broken 
up  through  to  the  realm  above,  and  was  clothed  with  Divine 
elements.  In  this  state,  the  grand  instrument  of  success  in  the 
subjugation  of  the  world  was  to  be  the  simple  force  of  this 
new  human  nature,  acting,  directly  upon  living  men.  Until  that 
time  religion  had,  in  the  weakness  of  the  race,  needed  to  em- 
ploy rules,  laws,  and  institutions,  and  to  maintain  its  authority 
by  force  borrowed  from  the  phj^sical  nature  of  man.  But  the 
new  kingdom  was  to  rely  sovereignly  upon  a  new  force,  —  the 
living  soul  acting  upon  living  souls.  Therefore  Jesus,  having 
revealed  by  these  few  profound  elements  what  was  the  true 
spiritual  strength  of  man,  declai'es  to  his  disciples  their  mission. 
They  were  to  be  the  preservative  element  of  life.  They  were 
to  become  sons  of  God,  not  alone  for  their  own  sake,  but  as 
spiritual  forces  in  subduing  the  world  to  goodness.  While 
Pharisees  were  intensely  concerned  to  maintain  their  own  sup- 

' -4 


#- -^ 

THE  SERMON'  ON  THE  MOUNT.  247 

loosed  blameless  state,  and  Essenes  were  withdrawing  from  hu- 
man life  more  and  more,  and  various  religionists  were  playing 
hermit,  shunning  a  world  which  they  could  not  resist  or  over- 
come, the  disciples  of  the  new  kingdom  of  the  spirit,  inspired 
by  a  Divine  influence,  and  living  in  an  atmosphere  uncontam- 
inated  by  the  lower  passions,  were  to  go  boldly  forth  into  life, 
taking  hold  of  human  affairs,  seeking  to  purify  the  household, 
to  reclaim  the  selfishness  and  the  sordidness  of  material  life, 
to  infuse  a  spirit  of  justice  and  of  goodness  into  laws  and 
magistrates,  and  to  make  the  power  of  their  new  life  felt  in 
every  fibre  of  human  society.  "  Ye  are  the  salt  of  the  earth !  " 
"  Ye  are  the  light  of  the  world ! " 

The  opening  portion  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  must  not 
have  the  canons  of  modern  philosophy  applied  to  it.  Its  or- 
ganic relations  with  the  rest  of  the  discourse  must  not  be 
pressed  too  far.  It  depicts  the  moral  qualities  which  are  to 
give  character  to  the  new  life,  but  does  not  include  all  the 
elements  of  it,  nor  even  the  most  important  ones.  Hope,  faith, 
and  love  are  not  mentioned.  It  is  plain,  therefore,  that  the 
principle  of  selection  was  largely  an  external  one.  Jesus  was 
about  to  criticise  the  national  religion.  He  fixed  his  eye  upon 
the  living  officers  and  exemplars  of  that  religion,  and  empha- 
sized with  his  benediction  those  qualities  which  most  needed 
to  be  made  prominent,  and  which  were  signally  lacking  in  the 
spirit  of  the  Pharisee. 

Just  as  little  should  we  attempt  to  exhibit  in  the  Beati- 
tudes a  natural  progression,  or  philosophic  order  of  qualities. 
There  is  no  reason  why  the  second  Beatitude  should  not  stand 
first,  nor  why  the  fifth,  sixth,  and  seventh  might  not  be  inter- 
changed. The  fourth  might  without  impropriety  have  begun 
the  series.  The  order  in  which  they  stand  does  not  repre- 
sent the  order  of  the  actual-  evolution  of  moral  qualities.  On 
the  contrary,  we  perceive  that  the  spirit  of  God  develops  the 
new  life  in  the  human  soul  in  no  fixed  order.  Men  who  have 
gone  far  in  overt  wickedness  may  find  their  first  moral  im- 
pulse to  spring  from  a  condemning  conscience ;  but  others  are 
more  affected  by  the  sweetness  and  beauty  of  moral  qualities 
as  seen  in  some  goodly  life.     Sometimes  hope,  sometimes  sym- 

^ ^ 


^ -ft 

248  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,    THE  CHRIST. 

pathy,  pometimes  fear,  and  sometimes  even  the  imitativeness 
that  becomes  contagious  in  social  life,  is  the  initiatory  motive. 
For  the  human  soul  is  like  a  city  of  many  gates  ;  and  a  con- 
queror does  not  always  enter  by  the  same  gate,  but  by  that 
one  which  chances  to  lie  open.  It  is  true  that  a  general  sense 
of  sinfulness  precedes  all  effort  after  a  higher  life.  But  a  clear 
discrimination  of  evil,  and  an  exquisite  sensibility  to  it,  such 
as  are  implied  in  the  first  two  Beatitudes,  do  not  belong  to  an 
untrained  conscience  first  aroused  to  duty,  but  are  the  fruits  of 
later  stages  of  Christian  experience. 

The  Beatitudes  constitute  a  beautiful  sketch  of  the  ideal 
state,  when  the  glowing  passions,  which  in  the  day  of  Christ 
controlled  even  the  religious  leaders,  and  still  so  largely  rule 
the  world,  shall  be  supplanted  by  the  highest  moral  sentiments. 
The  ostentatious  wealth  and  arrogant  pride  of  this  sensuous 
life  shall  be  replaced  in  the  new  life  by  a  profound  humility. 
The  conceit  and  base  content  of  a  sordid  prosperity  shall  give 
way  to  ingenuous  spiritual  aspiration.  Men  shall  long  for 
goodness  more  than  the  hungry  do  for  food.  They  shall  no 
longer  live  by  the  force  of  their  animal  life,  but  by  the  se- 
rene sweetness  of  the  moral  sentiments.  Meekness  shall  be 
stronger  than  force.  The  spirit  of  peacemaking  shall  take  the 
place  of  irritation  and  quarrelsomeness.  But  as  we  can  come 
to  the  mildness  and  serenity  of  spring  only  through  the  blus- 
tering winds  and  boisterous  days  of  March,  so  this  new  king- 
dom must  enter  through  a  period  of  resistance  and  of  perse- 
cution ;  and  all  who,  taking  part  in  its  early  establishment, 
have  to  accept  persecution,  must  learn  to  find  joy  in  it  as  the 
witness  that  they  are  exalted  to  a  superior  realm  of  experi- 
ence, to  the  companionship  of  the  noblest  heroes  of  the  pro- 
phetic age,  and  to  fellowship  with  God. 


^ _4 


c& 


-a 


LAMP  0>f  ANCIENT  CANDLESTICK. 


CHAPTER    XV. 


THE  SERMON  ON  THE  MOUNT.  —  (CoNxiNnED; 


t- 


AFTER  pronouncing  the  Beatitudes,  and  before  entering  up- 
on his  criticism  of  the  current  religious  ideas,  Je.sus  put  his 
disciples  on  their  guard  lest  they  should  suppose  that  he  meant 
to  overturn  the  religion  of  their  flxthers.  Think  not  that  I  am 
come  to  destroij  the  Law  or  the  Prophets.  If  men's  moral  beliefs 
were  the  result  of  a  purely  logical  process,  their  religious  faith 
might  be  changed  upon  mere  argument,  and  with  as  little  det- 
riment to  their  moral  constitution  as  an  astronomer  experiences 
Avhen,  upon  the  recalculation  of  a  problem,  he  corrects  an  error. 
But  men's  moral  convictions  spring  largely  from  their  feelings. 
The  intellect  but  gives  expression  to  the  heart.  The  creed 
and  worship,  however  they  may  begin  in  philosophy,  are  soon 
covered  all  over  with  the  associations  of  the  household ;  they 
are  perfumed  with  domestic  love  ;  they  convey  with  them  the 
hopes  and  the  fears  of  life,  the  childhood  fancies,  and  the  im- 
aginations of  manhood.  To  change  a  man's  religious  system  is 
to  reconstruct  the  whole  man  himself.  Such  change  is  full  of 
peril.  Only  the  strongest  moral  natures  can  survive  the  shock 
of  doubt  which  dispossesses  them  of  all  that  they  have  trusted 
from  childhood.  There  are  few  strong  moral  natures.  The 
mass  of  men  are  creatures  of  dependent  habits  and  of  unreason- 
ing fiiith.  Once  cut  loose  from  what  they  have  always  deemed 
sacred,   they  find  it   impossible    to    renew    their   reverence   for 


^ 


^ -^ 

250    .  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE  CHRIST. 

new  things,  and  sink  either  into  moral  indifference  or  into  care- 
less scepticism.  Men  must,  if  possible,  see  in  the  new  a  pres- 
ervation of  all  that  was  valuable  in  the  old,  made  still  more 
fruitful  and  beautiful.  It  is  the  old  in  the  new  that  preserves 
it  from  doing  harm  to  untaught  natures. 

The  recognition  of  this  truth  is  nowhere  more  remarkable 
than  in  the  progress  of  Christianity  under  the  ministration  of 
Jesus  and  of  his  Apostles.  Although  surrounded  hy  a  jjeople 
whose  hatred  of  foreign  religions  was  inordinate  and  fanatical, 
the  Jews  did  not  hear  from  the  lips  of  Jesus  even  an  allusion 
to  heathenism.  If  the  narratives  of  the  Gospel  are  fair  speci- 
mens of  his  manner,  there  was  not  a  word  that  fell  from  him 
which  could  have  wounded  an  honest  heathen  ;  ^  and,  after- 
wards, his  Apostles  sought  to  find  some  ground  of  common 
moral  consciousness  from  which  to  reason  with  the  idolatrous 
people  among  whom  they  came.  We  are  not  to  suppose  that 
Jesus  made  an  abrupt  transition  from  the  religious  institutions 
of  Moses  to  his  own  spiritual  system.  He  said  no  word  to 
unsettle  the  minds  of  his  countrymen  in  the  faith  of  their 
fathers.  He  was  careful  of  the  religious  prejudices  of  liis  times. 
The  very  blows  directed  against  the  glosses  and  perversions  of 
the  Phari.sees  derived  their  force  from  the  love  which  Jesus 
showed  for  the  Law  and  the  Prophets.  He  pierced  through  the 
outward  forms  to  the  central  principle  of  Mosaism,  and  made 
his  new  dispensation  to  be  an  evolution  of  tlie  old. 

Think  nut  that  I  am  conic  to  dcstroi/  the  Law  or  ike  Prophets  : 
I  am  not  come  to  destroy,  but  to  fulfil. 

Here  is  the  law  of  development  announced  by  an  inspired 
Hebrew  to  a  peasant  and  mechanic  crowd  in  obscure  Galilee, 
ages  before  the  philosoph}'  of  evolution  was  suspected  or  the 
laws  of  progress  Averc  found  out.  Jesus  did  not  come  to  destroy 
old  faiths,  but  to  carry  them  forward  by  growth  to  the  higher 
forms  and  the  better  fruit  that  were  contained  within  them. 

This  tenderness  for  all  the  good  that  there  was  in  the  past 
of  the  Jewish  nation  is  in  striking  contrast  with  the  bitter 
spirit  of  hatred  against  the  Jews  which  afterwards  grew  up  in 
the  Christian  Church.     No  man  can  be  in  sympathy  with  Jesus 

'  The  word  "  heathen,"  Matt.  vi.  7,  and  xviii.  1 7,  is  used  ratlier  as  a  designation 
than  as  a  criticism. 

q^^ : ^ 


THE  SERMON   ON   THE  MOUNT.  251 

who  has  no  aiTection  for  the  Jew  and  no  reverence  for  the 
oracles  of  the  old  Hebrew  dispensation. 

It  was  peculiarly  appropriate,  at  the  beginning  of  a  dis'course 
designed  to  search  the  received  interpretations  of  the  Law  with 
the  most  severe  criticism,  that  Jesus  should  caution  his  disciples 
against  a  tendency,  often  developed  in  times  of  transition,  to 
give  up  and  abandon  all  the  convictions  and  traditions  of  the 
past.  Jesus  therefore  amplified  the  thought.  The  central  truths 
of  Hebraism  were  fundamental  and  organic.  The  ceremonies 
and  institutions  which  surrounded  them  might  change,  but  the 
enshrined  principles  were  permanent.  Heaven  and  earth  should 
pass  away  before  one  jot  or  tittle  of  them  should  perish.  No 
man  must  seek  notoriety  bj'  a  crusade  against  his  father's  re- 
ligion. He  who  should  break  one  of  the  least  commandments, 
or  should  inspire  others  to  do  so,  should  be  least  in  the  king- 
dom of  heaven.  The  temper  of  the  new  life  was  not  to  be 
destructive,  but  constructive.  Even  that  part  of  the  old  re- 
ligion which  was  to  pass  away  must  not  be  destroyed  by  attack, 
but  be  left  to  dry  up  and  fall  by  the  natural  development  of 
the  higher  elements  of  spiritual  life  contained  within  it.  And 
that  should  not  be  till  the  old  was  "  fulfilled  "  in  the  new  :  the 
blossom  should  be  displaced  only  by  the  fruit. 

Jesus  wa.s  now  jjrepared  to  pass  under  review  the  ethical 
mistakes  which  his  countrymen  had  made  in  interpreting  the 
Law  of  Moses.  He  began  by  declaring  that  the  reigning  relig- 
ious spirit  was  totally  insufficient.  No  one  under  its  inspiration 
could  rise  into  that  higher  life  which  was  opening  upon  the 
world. 

Except  your  righteousness  shall  exceed  the  7-igJdeousncss  of  the  Scribes 
and  Pharisees,  ye  shall  in  no  case  enter  iido  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

This  may  be  called  the  theme  of  the  whole  sermon  following. 
From  this  text  Jesus  now  developed  his  view  of  the  ethics  of 
the  new  life.  He  furnished  the  ideals  towards  which  men  must 
strive,  setting  forth  the  morality  of  the  teleologic  state  of 
mankind.  For  this  purpose  he  selected  a  series  of  cases  in 
which  the  great  laws  of  purity  and  of  love  Avere  the  most  vio- 
lated in  the  practical  life  of  his  times,  and  applied  to  them 
the  ethics  of  the  final  and  perfect  state  of  manhood.  This 
he  did,  not  as  a  legislator,  nor  as  a  priest.     He  was  not  attempt- 

^ -^ 


[0- -ft 

252  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

ing  to  regulate  civil  society,  nor  the  church,  by  minute  regu- 
lations, but  by  inspiring  the  soul  with  those  nobler  emotions 
from  Avhich  just  rules  spring,  and  which  themselves  need  no 
laws.  He  spoke  from  conscious  divinity  in  himself  to  the  moral 
consciousness  in  man.  He  was  not  framing  principles  into  hu- 
man laws  or  institutions.  He  held  up  ideals  of  disposition  for 
the  attainment  of  Avliich  all  men  were  to  strive.  They  are  not 
the  less  true  because  men  in  the  lower  stages  of  development 
are  unable  to  attain  to  their  level.  They  are  the  true  basis  of 
all  social  and  civil  procedure,  even  though  nations  are  not  yet 
civilized  enough  to  practise  them. 

There  are  nine  topics  successively  treated,  all  of  them  re- 
lating to  the  state  of  man's  heart,  namely:  1.  Murder;  2.  Adul- 
tery ;  .3.  Divorce;  4.  Oaths;  5.  Retaliation;  6.  Disinterested 
Benevolence ;  7.  Almsgiving ;  8.  Pra^'er ;  9.  Fasting.  Follow- 
ing the  enunciation  of  principles  in  regard  to  these  topics  are  a 
series  of  cases  relating  to  the  outward  life,  or  economico-ethical 
instructions.  The  spiritual  ethics  which  Jesus  laid  down  Avith 
the  quiet  authority  of  conscious  divinity  not  only  antagonized 
Avith  the  private  passions  of  men  and  the  customs  of  society, 
but  directly  contested  the  popular  interpretation  of  the  Law  of 
Moses. 

1.  Mnrilcr.  —  Christ  teaches  that  the  true  life  is  that  of  the 
thoughts  and  emotions ;  that  the  highest  authority  and  gov- 
ernment is  that  which  is  within  the  soul,  and  not  alone  that 
which  breaks  out  into  active  civil  law  and  takes  cognizance 
of  acts.  Spiritual  law  takes  hold  of  the  sources  of  all  acts. 
Now  the  Pharisee  sought  to  restrain  evil  ]jy  a  microscopic  con- 
sideration of  externals.  Jesus  went  back  to  the  fountain,  and 
would  purify  all  the  issues  by  cleansing  it. 

Ye  have  heard  that  it  was  said  hij  them  of  old  time,  Thou  shult  not 
Mil ;  and  whosoever  shall  kill  shall  be  in  danger  of  the  judgment :  Inil 
I  sag  unto  gou,  Thai  whosoever  is  angrg  with  his  brother  without  a 
cause  shall  be  in  danger  of  the  judgment :  and  tvJiosoever  shall  sag  to 
his  brother,  Raca,  shall  be  in  danger  of  the  council :  but  u'hosoever  shall 
sag,  Thou  fool,  shall  be  in  danger  of  hell  fire. 

What  is  murder?  The  law  of  the  land  answered  in  its  way. 
Jesus  replied,  The  voluntary  indulgence  of  any  feeling  that 
would  naturally  lead  to  the  act,  —  that  is  murder.     The  crime 


t 


-ff 


c0- -^ 

THE  SERMON  ON   THE  MOUNT.  253 

is  first  committed  in  the  slicadowy  realm  of  thought  and  feeling. 
Many  a  murder  is  unperformed  outwardly,  while  all  that  con- 
stitutes its  guilt  is  en.acted  in  the  heart.  A  legalist  would 
regard  himself  as  innocent  if  only  he  did  not  act  as  he  felt. 
But  in  the  kingdom  of  the  Spirit  feelmgs  are  acts.  A  mur- 
derous temper  is  murder.  John  says,  "  Whosoever  hateth  his 
brother  is  a  murderer." 

This  does  not  forbid  all  anger.  There  may  be  a  just  indig- 
nation which  carries  in  it  no  malice,  which  springs  from  af- 
fronted benevolence.  This  is  implied  in  the  phrase,  "  Whoso  is 
angry  with  his  brother  withoiit  a  cause"  i.  e.  a  just  cause,  a  cause 
springing  from  high  moral  considerations,  as  where  indigna- 
tion is  aroused  at  the  sight  of  one  who  is  committing  a  great 
cruelty. 

Not  alone  anger  which  leads  to  violence,  but  even  that  de- 
gree of  anger  which  leads  one  to  abuse  another  by  the  use  of 
opprobrious  epithets,  is  forbidden.  Yet  more  severely  con- 
demned is  such  a  transport  of  anger  as  leads  one,  under  the 
influence  of  merciless  passions,  as  it  were,  to  tread  out  all  sense 
of  another's  manhood  and  to  annihilate  him. 

Not  only  are  we  to  carry  kind  thoughts  ourselves,  but  we 
are  boimd,  by  every  means  within  our  power,  to  prevent  un- 
kind thoughts  in  others.  If  we  know  that  another  "  hath 
aught  against  us,"  the  removal  of  that  unkind  feeling  is  more 
important  before  God  than  any  act  of  worship.  Leave  the 
altar,  remove  the  unkindness,  then  return  to  thy  prayers.  First 
humanity,  then  devotion. 

2.  Adulter//.  —  The  same  general  principle  is  applied  to  the 
passion  of  lust. 

But  I  say  unto  you,  That  ivhosocvcr  looJceih  on  a  uvman  to  lust  after 
he?-  hath  committed  adultery  tvith  her  already  in  his  heart. 

Not  only  is  he  guilty  who  suffers  desire  to  run  its  full  length 
and  consummate  itself  in  action,  but  he  also  who  nourislies  the 
desire  which  he  cannot  or  dare  not  consummate.  And  though 
the  temptation  require  the  uttermost  strength  of  resistance,  it 
must  be  vanquished.  As  a  soldier  fights  though  wounded,  and 
is  triumphantly  received  though  his  victorj^  has  lost  him  an  arm 
or  an  eye,  so  at  every  sacrifice  and  with  all  perseverance  must 
the  true  man  maintain  chastity  in  his  feelings,  in  his  thoughts, 

^ — ^ 


a- ■ -Q] 

254  nii:  LIFE    OF  JESVS,    THE  CHRIST. 

and  in  his  imagination.  If  ili>j  r'ujlit  eijc  offend  thee,  phcJe  it  out. 
If  thu  riijlit  hand  offend  thee,  cut  it  off. 

3.  Divorce.  —  In  the  kingdom  of  the  Spirit  the  new  man  shall 
no  longer  be  suffered  to  considt  his  own  mere  pleasiu-e  in  the 
disposal  of  his  wife.  In  the  Orient  and  among  the  Jews  polyg- 
amy was  permitted ;  the  husband  might  take  as  many  wives 
as  he  could  support,  and  he  was  at  liberty  to  dismiss  any  one 
of  them  upon  tlie  most  trivial  cause.  Woman  was  helpless,  a 
slave  of  man's  convenience,  without  redress  when  wronged.  She 
could  demand  a  legal  document  of  her  husband  if  he  put  her 
away,  and  that  probably  was  equivalent  to  a  general  certificate 
of  respectable  character,  such  as  employers  give  to  servants 
when  for  any  reason  they  wish  no  longer  to  retain  them. 

Under  Oriental  laws,  to  this  day,  women  are  little  better  than 
slaves.  The  husband  has  despotic  power  over  them.  Among 
the  Hebrews,  the  condition  of  woman  was  far  better,  and  her 
privileges  were  greater,  than  in  other  Eastern  nations ;  yet  the 
husband  could  dispossess  her  of  her  marriage  rights  almost  at 
his  own  will.  He  had  uncontrolled  jurisdiction.  There  was 
no  necessity  for  obtaining  permission  from  a  civil  or  religious 
tribunal  to  put  away  his  wife.  It  was  a  household  affair,  with 
which  the  public  had  nothing  to  do.  Her  stay  in  the  house 
was  purely  a  matter  of  her  lord's  will.  He  could  send  her 
forth  for  the  most  trivial  fault,  or  from  the  merest  caprice. 
The  doctrine  of  Jesus  sheared  off  at  one  stroke  all  these  un- 
natural privileges  from  the  husband,  and  made  the  wife's  position 
firm  and  permanent,  unless  she  forfeited  it  by  crime.  By  lim- 
iting the  grounds  of  separation  to  the  single  crime  of  adultery, 
Jesus  revolutionized  the  Oriental  household,  and  lifted  woman 
fixr  up  on  the  scale  of  natural  rights.  Considered  in  its  histor- 
ical relations,  this  action  of  our  Lord  was  primarily  a  restriction 
upon  the  stronger  and  directly  in  the  interest  of  the  weaker 
party. 

This  theme  and  our  Lord's  teaching  upon  it  will  be  resumed 
where  we  come  to  treat  of  a  later  period  in  his  ministry,  when 
he  more  fully  disclosed  his  doctrine  upon  the  subject.  But  it 
is  clear  that  our  Lord  belonged  to  neither  of  the  two  schools 
which  existed  among  the  Jews,  —  the  lax  school  of  Hillel,  or 
the  rigid  school  of  Shammai.     He  rose  higher  than  either.     He 

t. ^ 


THE  SERMON  ON  THE  MOUNT.  255 

made  the  outward  relation  permanent,  on  account  of  the  true 
spiritual  nature  of  marriage,  it  being  the  fusion  or  real  unity 
of  two  hearts.  Having  once  been  outwardly  united,  they  must 
abide  together,  and  even  when  they  found  themselves  in  con- 
flict must  learn  to  be  one  in  spirit  by  the  discipline  of  living 
together.  If  they  enter  the  wedded  state  unprepared,  the 
household  is  the  school  in  which  they  are  to  learn  the  neglected 
lesson. 

4.  Oaths.  —  If  men  loved  the  truth  always,  there  would  be 
no  need  of  an  oath ;  but  so  prone  are  they  to  deceit,  that 
in  cases  of  public  interest  they  must  be  incited  to  speak  truly 
by  a  lively  fear  acting  upon  an  aroused  conscience.  By  an  oath 
men  swear  to  God,  and  not  to  man,  of  the  truth  of  flicts.  A 
day  shall  come  when  men  will  speak  the  truth  in  the  love  of 
truth.  Then  all  judicial  oaths  Avill  be  needless.  The  perfect 
state  will  have  no  need  of  them,  and  they  will  be  done  away. 

The  casuists  among  the  Jews  had  corrupted  the  oath.  Men 
were  not  bound  by  it,  unless  it  was  an  oath  directly  to  God. 
They  might  win  confidence  by  giving  to  their  solemn  affirma- 
tions the  appearance  of  an  oath.  They  might  swear  by  heaven, 
by  the  earth,  by  Jerusalem,  by  one's  head ;  but  it  was  held  that 
from  these  oaths  they  might  draw  back  without  dishonor.  Jesus 
exposed  the  deception  and  impiety  of  such  oaths.  He  laid 
down  for  all  time  the  canon,  that  the  true  man  shall  declare 
facts  with  the  utmost  simplicity.  It  must  be  yea,  yea,  or  nay, 
nay ;  nothing  more.  This  certainly  forbids  the  use  of  all  trivial 
oaths,  and  reduces  judicial  oaths  to  the  position  of  expedients, 
tolerated  only  on  account  of  the  weakness  of  men,  and  to  be 
abolished  in  the  era  of  true  manhood.  Oaths  will  be  dispensed 
with  just  as  soon  as  men  can  be  believed  without  an  oath. 

5.  Retaliation.  —  Jesus  passed  next  to  a  consideration  of  the 
law  of  retaliation.  The  lower  down  upon  the  moral  scale  men 
live,  the  more  nearly  must  they  be  governed  wholly  ))y  fear 
and  force.  Under  the  laws  of  nature,  disobedience  brings  pain. 
Men  learn  the  same  government,  and  inflict  pain  upon  those 
who  offend.  Civil  government  methodizes  this  economy  of  pain. 
It  is,  however,  the  method  peculiar  to  undeveloped  manhood. 
Force  is  the  lowest,  pain  is  the  next,  and  fear  the  next;  but 
all    of  them    are    methods    of  dealing    with    creatures   not   yet 

^ — ^ -^ 


[fi ^ -Ep 

256  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE    CHRIST. 

brou"-ht  up  to  tlieir  true  selves.  They  are  therefore  expedients 
of  education,  and,  like  all  instruments  of  training,  they  cease 
as  soon  as  they  have  carried  their  subjects  to  a  higher  plane.  In 
the  coming  kingdom  of  love,  the  full  man  in  Christ  Jesus  Avill 
no  longer  repay  evil  with  evil,  pain  with  pain.  Evil-doing  will 
be  corrected  by  the  spirit  of  goodness,  and  love  will  take  the 
place  of  force  and  pain  and  fear. 

Even  if  it  be  ^et  impos.sible  to  develop  among  men  this 
future  and  ideal  government,  it  can  be  held  up  as  the  aim 
toward  which  progress  should  be  directed.  This  Jesus  did.  / 
sat/  itnio  you,  That  ye  resist  not  evil ;  bid  tvJiosoever  shall  smite  thee  on 
thy  right  cheek,  turn  to  him  the  other  also.  Nay,  more;  he  who 
acts  in  the  full  spirit  of  love,  so  far  from  revenging  an  injustice, 
will  yield  more  than  is  demanded.  It  was  a  time  of  injustice 
and  of  tyrannical  exactions ;  but  the  command  of  Jesus  was,  If 
the  law,  wickedly  administered,  should  take  30ur  property, 
rather  than  quarrel  give  more  than  is  asked;  if  impressed  in 
your  property  and  person  into  the  public  service,  exceed  the 
task  laid  upon  you;  if  solicited,  lend  and  give  freely.  As  so- 
ciety is  constituted,  and  in  the  low  and  animal  condition  of 
mankind,  it  may  be  that  these  commands  could  not  be  fidfilled 
literally;  but  they  furnish  an  ideal  toward  which  every  one 
must  strive. 

6.  Di-siutcrcsteil  Benevolence.  —  Having  developed  the  genius  of 
the  new  kingdom  of  love  negatively,  it  was  natural  that  Jesus 
should  next  disclose  the  positive  forms  of  love  and  its  duties. 
He  laid  down  the  fundamental  principle  that  love  must  spring 
forth,  not  from  the  admirableness  of  any  object  of  regard,  but 
from  the  richness  of  one's  own  nature  in  true  benevolence.  Like 
the  sun,  love  sends  forth  from  itself  that  color  which  makes 
beautiful  Avhatever  it  shines  upon ;  therefore  love  your  enemies, 
bless  them  that  curse  you,  do  good  to  them  that  hate  30U,  and 
pray  for  them  that  despitefuUy  use  you.  The  new  men  of 
the  future  must  not  derive  their  notions  of  perfection  from  be- 
I  neath  them,  —  in  that  direction  lies  the  animal,  —  but  from 
above.  Seek  for  that  kind  of  perfection  which  God  desnes, — 
the  perfection  of  a  disinterested  love.  The  sun  and  the  sea- 
sons interpret  that.  They  pour  life  and  bounty  over  the  whole 
race,   whether   deserving   or   not.      In    spite   of  the   pains   and 

t- -^ 


0- 


^ 

THE  SERMON  ON  THE  MOUNT.  257 

penalties  of  which  nature  is  full,  over  all  the  earth  are  the 
symbols  that  God's  greater  government  is  one  of  goodness. 
He  must  be  a  bad  man  who  does  not  love  that  which  is  lovely. 
Even  selfishness  can  honor  and  serve  that  which  will  redound 
to  its  benefit.  The  worst  men  in  society  will  please  those 
who  will  return  like  service. 

This,  too,  like  the  teaching  upon  the  other  topics,  is  to  be 
accepted  as  the  ideal  of  the  new  kingdom.  It  can  be  but  im- 
perfectly carried  out  as  yet.  But  it  is  that  spirit  which  every 
man  is  to  recognize  as  the  standard,  and  to  carry  out  "  as 
much  as  in  him  lies." 

7.  Alimgririiiff.  —  Jesus  now  cautions  his  disciples  against  do- 
ing right  things  from  wrong  motives.  They  must  give  alms, 
not  for  the  sake  of  reputation,  not  for  their  own  interests,  but 
out  of  a  simple  benevolence.  The  love  of  praise  may  go  with 
benevolence,  but  must  not  take  the  place  of  it.  It  is  hypocrisy 
to  act  from  selfish  motives,  while  obtaining  credit  for  disinter- 
ested ones.  This  passing  off  of  our  baser  feelings*  for  our 
noblest  is  a  species  of  moral  counterfeiting  as  prevalent  now 
as  in  the  times  of  our  Lord. 

8.  Prater.  —  Men  should  pi'ay  from  a  sincere  feeling  of  devo- 
tion, and  not  from  vanity  or  mere  custom.  And,  as  botli  Jewish 
and  heathen  pra3'ers  had  become  filled  with  superstitious  and 
cumbersome  repetitions,  Jesus  enjoins  simplicity  and  privacy, 
rather  as  the  cure  of  ostentation  than  as  absolute  excellences. 
God  does  not  need  instruction  in  our  wants.  He  knows  better 
than  we  what  we  need.  Neither  does  he  need  persuasion.  He 
is  more  ready  to  give  good  gifts  than  parents  are  to  bestow 
good  things  on  their  children. 

It  is  probable  that  the  sermon  of  Christ  on  the  Mount  was 
delivered  in  the  most  familiar  and  interlocutory  manner.  It 
seems  to  have  been  reported  in  outline,  rather  than  in  full,  and 
between  one  portion  and  another  there  would  doubtless  be 
questions  asked  and  answered.  In  this  way  we  can  interpret 
the  succession  of  topics  which  have  no  internal  relation  to  each 
other,  but  which  might  be  drawn  out  of  the  speaker  by  some 
interposed  question  or  explanation.  Luke  gives  us  a  clew  to 
one  such  scene. 

"  And   it  came  to  pass,  that,  as  he  was  praying  in  a  certain 

ft- ^ 


[0- ^ 

258  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

place,  when  he  ceased,  one  of  his  disciples  said  unto  him,  Lord, 
teach  us  to  pray,  as  John  also  taught  his  disciples."     (xi.  1.) 

Many  of  John's  disciples,  after  the  imprisonment  of  their  mas- 
ter, attached  themselves  to  Jesus.  The  transition  was  natural 
and  easy.  Jesus  must  have  seemed  to  them  like  a  second  John, 
greater  in  miracles,  but  far  less  in  sanctity.  John  was  wholly 
a  reformer.  He  did  not  take  vipon  him  the  duties  and  burdens 
of  common  citizenship,  but  stood  apart  as  a  judge  and  censor 
of  morals.  He  had  that  severe  mood  of  sanctity  which  always 
impresses  the  imagination  of  the  ignorant  and  the  superstitious. 
Jesus  was  a  citizen.  He  knew  the  fatigues  of  labor,  the  trials 
which  beset  poverty,  the  temptations  arising  from  the  practi- 
cal conduct  of  business.  He  lived  among  men  in  all  the  inno- 
cent experiences  of  society  life,  a  cheerful,  companionable,  and 
most  winning  nature.  There  was  no  gayety  in  his  demeanor, 
but  much  cheerfulness.  He  did  not  assume  the  professional 
sanctity  that  was  much  in  esteem.  He  was  familiar,  natural, 
unpretentious,  loving  that  which  was  homely  and  natural  in 
men,  rather  than  that  which  was  artificial  and  pretentious. 

But  John's  discii)les  must  have  ll-lt  the  difference  in  the 
teaching  of  the  two  masters.  Especially  must  they  have  ob- 
served the  devotional  spirit  of  Jesus.  And  on  the  occasion 
mentioned,  when  he  had  spent  in  prayer  the  night  preceding 
the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  some  of  them  asked  Jesus  to  teach 
them  how  to  jjray,  "  as  John  also  taught  his  disciples." 

Prayer  was  no  new  thing  to  the  Jews.  Synagogues  abounded, 
and  their  liturgical  service  was  rich  in  prayers,  which  in  gen- 
eral were  scriptural  and  eminently  devotional.  But  their  very 
number  was  burdensome,  and  their  repetition  confusing.  Litur- 
gies furnish  prayers  for  men  in  groups  and  societies.  This  meets 
but  one  side  of  hiunan  Avant.  Man  needs  to  draw  himself  out 
from  among  his  fellows,  and  to  pray  alone  and  individually. 
New  wine  disdains  old  bottles.  Inten.se  feeling  will  not  accept 
old  formulas,  but  bursts  out  into  prayer  of  its  own  shajiing. 
Yet  it  was  hardly  this  last  want  that  led  the  disciples  to  ask 
Jesus  to  teach  them  how  to  pray.  It  Avas  more  jirobably  a 
request  that  he  would,  out  of  the  multitude  of  prayers  already 
prepared,  either  select  for  them  or  frame  some  prayer  that 
should  be  in  sjanpathy  with  the  spiritual  instruction  which  lie 


^ 


f 


ft 


THE  SERMON  ON  THE  MOUNT.  259 

was  giving  them.  Now,  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  as  given 
by  Matthew,  Jesus  had  just  been  reprehending  the  practice  of 
repetition  in  prayer,  so  striking  in  the  devotions  of  the  heathen, 
who  frequently  for  a  half-hour  together  vociferate  a  single  sen- 
tence, or  word  even.  The  disciples  of  John  very  naturally 
asked  him  to  give  then?  such  a  pi-ayer  as  he  would  approve. 
Jesus  gave  them  what  has  become  known  as  "  the  Lord's 
Praver."  It  may  be  used  liturgically,  or  it  may  serve  as  a 
model  for  private  prayer,  as  shall  seem  most  profitable. 

One  knows  not  which  most  to  admire  in  this  form,  —  its  lofti- 
ness of  spirit,  its  comprehensiveness,  its  brevity,  its  simplicity, 
or  its  union  of  human  and  divine  elements.  Our  admiration  of 
it  is  not  disturbed  by  that  criticism  which  questions  its  origi- 
nality and  finds  it  to  be  made  up,  in  part,  of  prayers  already 
existing.  Is  the  diamond  less  princely  among  stones  because  its 
constituent  elements  can  be  shown  in  other  combinations  ?  The 
brilliant  contrast  between  the  inorganic  elements  and  their  cr^^s- 
talline  form  is  a  sufficient  answer.  All  prayer  may  be  said  to 
have  crystallized  in  this  praj'er.  The  Church  has  worn  it  for 
hundreds  of  years  upon  her  bosom,  as  the  brightest  gem  of 
devotion. 

The  opening  phrase,  Our  Father,  is  the  key  to  Christianity. 
God  is  father;  government  is  personal.  All  the  tenderness 
which  now  is  stored  up  in  the  word  "  mother "  was  of  old 
included  in  the  name  "  father."  The  household  was  governed 
by  law,  and  yet  it  was  small  enough  to  enable  the  father  to 
make  himself  the  exponent  of  love  and  law. 

In  the  household,  sti'ength  and  weakness  are  bound  together 
by  the  mysterious  tie  of  love.  The  superior  serves  the  infe- 
rior, and  yet  subordination  is  not  lost.  Children  learn  obedi- 
ence through  their  affections,  and  fear  supplements  higher 
motives.  In  this  the  family  differs  from  all  civil  institutions. 
The  fother  is  in  contact  with  his  children,  and  governs  them  by 
personal  influence.  The  magistrate  cannot  know  or  be  known 
to  the  bulk  of  his  subjects.  Love  in  the  household  is  a  living 
influence,  in  the  state  it  is  an  abstraction.  In  a  family  where 
love  and  law  are  commensurate,  the  fither's  will  is  the  most 
perfect  government. 

Civil  government  is  an  extension  of  the  family  only  in  name. 

[^_ S 


a- -ft] 

260  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

Kings  are  not  fathers,  and  national  governments  cannot  be 
paternal  because  they  cannot  be  personal.  It  is  a  question  of 
the  utmost  importance,  then,  Avhether  we  shall  form  our  idea 
of  the  Divine  moral  government  from  the  family  or  from  the 
state  ;  whether  we  shaU  conceive  of  God  as  Father  or  as  King, 
and  his  government  as  one  of  abstract  laws  or  of  personal  influ- 
ences. "  OuK  Father"  is  itself  a  whole  theology.  We  are 
prone  to  transfer  to  the  moral  administration  of  God  those 
peculiarities  of  civil  government  which  really  spring  from  men's 
limitation  and  weakness,  and  are  therefore  the  worst  possible 
analogies  or  symbols  of  Divine  things.  The  impersonality  of 
magistrates  and  the  abstractions  of  law  are  necessary  in  human 
government,  because  men  are  too  weak  to  reach  a  higher  model. 
The  Divine  government,  administered  by  means  of  universal 
laws,  still  leaves  the  Supreme  Father  free  to  exercise  his  per- 
sonal feelings.  If  God  be  only  a  magistrate,  the  charm  is  gone. 
He  governs  no  longer  by  the  influence  of  his  heart,  but  by  a 
law,  which,  as  projected  from  himself,  is  conceived  of  b}^  men 
as  a  thing  separate  from  Divine  will,  though  at  first  springing 
from  it.  At  once  justice  becomes  something  inflexible,  severe, 
relentless.  A  king  is  weak  in  moral  power  in  proportion  as 
he  relies  upon  the  law  of  force.  His  hand  for  matter,  his  heart 
for  men. 

A  father  on  earth,  though  dear  and  venerated,  is  j'et  human 
and  imperfect;  but  a  "Father  in  heaven"  exalts  the  imagina- 
tion. The  Celestial  Father  di.scharges  all  those  duties  and  offices 
of  love  and  authority  which  the  earthly'  parent  but  hints  at 
and  imperfectly  fulfils.  It  is  the  ideal  of  perfection  in  father- 
hood. It  enhances  our  conception  of  the  ideal  home,  in  "  the 
house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens."  As  chil- 
dren in  an  earthly  ftimily  come  to  a  parent,  so  with  all  the 
privileges  of  children  our  spirits  ascend  to  the  spiritual  Father 
in  heaven. 

With  a  child's  love  and  admiration  mingles  not  only  a  sense 
of  the  superiority  of  its  parent,  but  an  aflectionate  desire  for  his 
honor  and  dignity.  Ilalloircd  be  ihj  wnnc  is  the  expression  of  the 
desire  that  God  may  be  held  in  imiversal  reverence.  Experi- 
encing the  blessedness  of  veneration,  the  soul  would  clothe  the 
object  of  its  adoration   with  the   love   and   admiration  which   it 

[^_ ^ ^ 


THE  SERMON  ON  THE  MOUNT.  261 

deserves.  It  is  not  a  supplication  for  one's  self,  but  an  affec- 
tionate and  holy  desire  for  the  welfare  of  another.  There  is 
in  it  no  servile  adulation,  no  abject  awe.  It  springs  from  the 
highest  spiritual  aflection,  and  is  rational   and  ennobling. 

In  the  next  petition  the  soul  yearns  for  that  perfect  state 
toward  which  men  have  always  been  looking  forward.  How- 
ever imperfect  the  conceptions  may  be,  men  have  always  con- 
ceived of  the  present  as  a  single  step  in  one  long  advance 
toward  an  ideally  perfect  state.  Somewhere  in  the  future  the 
spirit  of  man  is  to  be  elevated,  purified,  perfected.  The  dis- 
cords and  misrule  and  wretchedness  of  the  present  are  not  to 
continue.  From  afar  off,  advancing  surely  though  slowly  through 
the  ages,  comes  that  kingdom  "in  which  dwelleth  righteous- 
ness." Every  good  man  longs  for  it,  and  his  thoughts  fre- 
quently take  shelter  in  it.  Thtf  kingdom  come  is  the  petition 
of  every  one  who  loves  God  and  his  fellow-man.^ 

The  next  is  like  unto  it :  Th//  will  le  dom;  in  earth,  us  it  is  in  heaven. 

All  natural  laws  are  the  emanations  of  the  Divine  will.  Those 
fundamental  principles  of  right,  upon  which  all  human  laws  are 
founded,  are  derived  from  the  Divine  will.  That  will  represents 
order,  progress,  and  government.  God's  will  is  universal  har- 
mony. On  earth,  men  are  largely  ignorant  of  this  regulative 
will,  and  are  irregular  in  their  obedience  to  that  which  is 
known,  or  are  wholly  disobedient  and  rebellious.  But  in  heav- 
en perfect  obedience  follows  knowledge.  The  will  of  God  is 
unobstructed.  Men  are  here  in  the  uproar  of  an  untuned  or- 
chestra, each  instrument  at  discord  with  its  fellows;  but  in 
heaven  the  chorus  will  flow  forever  in  harmonious  sweetness. 
In  desiring  our  own  spiritual  good,  we  must  come  into  sym- 
path}'  with  the  work  of  God  in  the  whole  race,  and  seek  ar- 
dently the  consummation  of  the  Divine  will  in  all  the  earth 
and  through  all  time. 

Thus  far,  in  the  Lord's  Prayer,  men  are  taught  to  express 
love,  reverence,  and  the  aspiration  of  earnest  benevolence. 
They  are  to  put  forth  their  first  desires,  and  their  strongest, 
in  behalf  of  the  Divine  glory  and  of  the  welfare  of  the  whole 
kingdom.  Then,  as  single  individuals  in  that  kmgdom,  they 
may  make  supplication  for  their  own  personal  wants.  Give  us 
this  day  our  daily  bread. 


4- 


■ff 


262  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

Bread  may  be  regarded  as  the  symbol  of  all  that  support 
■which  the  body  needs.  To  pray  for  daily  bread  is  to  pray 
for  all  necessary  support.  It  is  to  invoke  the  protection  of 
Divine  Providence,  and  in  its  spirit  it  includes  whatever  is 
needed  for  the  comfort  of  our  physical  life.  Thus,  however 
favored  of  wealth  and  its  fruits,  all  men  have  conscious  needs 
which  are  touched  by  the  spirit  of  this  cry  for  bread.  But 
they  to  whom  it  was  first  spoken  knew  the  pangs  of  hunger. 
Their  daily  bread  was  by  no  means  sure.  It  was  the  one 
want  that  never  left  them.  Nor  is  it  to  be  forgotten  that  the 
great  mass  of  men  on  the  globe  to-day  are  living  in  such  abject 
condition  as  to  make  the  question  of  food  a  matter  of  anxiety 
for  every  single  da^'.  The  i^rayer  for  bread  unites  more  voices 
on  earth  than  any  other. 

The  next  petition  is  for  the  forgiveness  of  sins;  and  it  is 
coupled  with  a  reminder  of  man's  duty  of  forgiveness  toward 
his  fellow-men.  Foryii'c  2(s  our  debts,  as  tee  forgive  our  debtors. 
No  other  offence  seems  to  have  been  regarded  as  so  fatal  to 
true  manhood  as  a  cruel  and  harm-bearing  disposition.  Even 
indifterence  to  another's  welfore  aroused  the  Master's  rebuke  ; 
but  a  wilful  animosity,  or  an  infliction  of  unnecessary  pain,  was 
regarded  with  the  severest  condemnation.^  No  other  sin  is 
more  common  or  more  culpable.  "  The  only  comment  of  our 
Lord  upon  this  prayer  touches  this  malign  trait  in  a  manner 
of  peculiar  solemnity.  For  if  yc  forgive  men  their  trespasses,  your 
Heavenly  Father  tvill  ako  forgive  you  :  bid  if  ye  forgive  not  men  their 
trespasses,  neither  tuill  your  Father  forgive  your  trespasses. 

The  next  petition,  Lead  us  not  into  temptation,  is  not  incon- 
sistent with  the  expression  of  joy  when  men  fall  into  divers 
temptations."  Men  often  rejoice  in  a  conflict,  after  it  is  past, 
which  thev  dreaded  in  anticipation.  Looking  forth  into  the 
future,  a  soul  conscious  of  its  weakness  dreads  being  put  under 
severe  temptation.  Those  who  have  seen  the  most  of  active 
life  will  most  deeply  feel  the  need  of  this  petition.  No  one 
can  tell  beforehand  how  he  will  be  affected  by  persistent,  in- 
sidious, and  vehement  temptations.  If  it  is  a  duty  to  avoid 
evil,  it  is  surely  permissible  to  solicit  Divine  help  thereto. 

'  See  Matt.  vi.  14,  15  ;  Luke  vi.  37  ;  Matt,  xviii.  35. 
*  James  i.  2. 

^ ^ 


^ ^ — — -^ 

THE  SERMON  ON  THE  MOUNT.  263 

But  when  under  Divine  Providence  it  is  necessary  that  men 
should  pass  through  a  conflict  with  evil,  that  very  conscious- 
ness of  their  own  weakness  which  led  them  to  pray  that  they 
might  not  he  tempted  now  causes  them  to  turn  to  God  for 
strength  to  resist  and  overcome  the  evil.  In  like  manner  the 
Saviour  prayed  in  Gethsemane  that  the  cup  might  pass ;  but 
then,  since  that  might  not  be,  he  conformed  himself  to  the 
will  of  God.  All  deep  feelings  grow  into  paradoxes.  Fear 
and  courage  may  coexist.  One  may  dread  to  be  tempted,  and 
yet  rejoice  in  being  tried.^ 

9.  Fasting.  —  We  have  seen  that  Jesus  was  in  the  midst  of 
a  criticism  upon  pretentious  almsgiving  and  ostentatious  prayer, 
when  asked  to  give  an  example  of  prayer.  Having  complied, 
he  now  resumes  the  interrupted  theme,  and  warns  them  against 
fasting  in  a  spirit  of  vanity.  Religious  fosting  had  long  pre- 
vailed among  the  devout  Jews.  It  had  been  perverted  by 
ascetics  on  the  one  hand,  and  by  the  Pharisees  on  the  other. 
Jesus  certainly  uttered  no  word  which  tended  to  increase  the 
respect  of  men  for  this  practice.  His  example  was  regarded 
as  lowering  the  value  of  fosting,  and  he  was  on  one  occasion 
expostulated  with,  and  John's  example  contrasted  Avith  his  more 
cheerful  conduct.  But  he  did  not  come  to  found  a  religion  of 
the  cave  or  the  cloister,  but  a  religion  which  should  develop 
every  side  of  manhood,  and  which,  while  deep  and  earnest, 
should  yet  be  sweet  and  cheerful.     In  such  a  religion  nothing 

'  The  doxology,  "  For  thine  is  the  kingdom,"  etc.,  is  admirably  accordant  with  the  spirit 
of  the  Lord's  Praver,  but  not  with  its  object.  It  was  not  included  in  the  prayer  as  origi- 
nally recorded  by  Matthew,  and  in  Luke  it  does  not  appear  even  now.  In  the  Jewish 
religious  synagogical  services,  to  which  the  early  Christians  had  been  trained,  the  dox- 
ology  was  of  frecjuent  occurrence,  and  in  using  the  Lord's  Prayer  it  was  natural  that  it 
should  be  appended  to  this  as  to  all  other  prayers.  It  is  not  strange  that  at  length  it 
should  creep  into  the  text  of  early  versions,  without  the  design  of  improper  interpolation, 
simply  because  in  oral  use  it  had  so  long  been  associated  with  the  prayer  itself.  The  most 
ancient  and  authoritative  manuscripts  are  unanimous  in  omitting  it. 

Called  forth  by  the  rccjuest  of  a  disciple,  the  prayer  was  given,  as  we  see  by  Matthew's 
Gospel,  as  a  model  of  brevity,  in  contrast  with  the  senseless  repetitions  of  the  heathen 
prayers.  It  is  an  extraordinary  fact,  that  the  Lord's  Prajer  has  been  made  the  agent 
of  that  very  repetition  which  it  was  meant  to  correct.  Tholuck  says  :  "  That  prayer 
which  He  gave  as  an  antidote  to  those  repetitions  is  the  very  one  which  has  been  most 
abused  by  vain  repetitions.  According  to  the  rosary,  the  Paler  Nosier  (Patriloquia, 
as  it  is  called)  is  [in  certain  of  the  church  services]  prayed  fifteen  times  (or  seven  or 
five  times),  and  the  Ave  Maria  one  huudi-ed  and  fitly  times  (or  fiity  or  sixty-three 
times)." 

^ - ^ 


[fi- -^ 

■  264  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE    CHRIST. 

could  be  more  offensive  than  insincere  devotion,  pretentions 
humility,  and  hypocritical  self-denial. 

Thus  for  the  discourse  had  borne  upon  the  popular  notions 
of  religious  worship.  Jesus  now  subjects  to  the  spiritual  stand- 
ard of  the  new  life  those  economic  opinions  which  then  ruled 
the  world,  as  they  still  do.  Next  after  the  glory  of  military 
power,  the  imagination  of  the  world  has  always  been  infatu- 
ated with  riches.  They  command  so  many  sources  of  enjoy- 
ment, and  redeem  men  from  so  many  of  the  humiliations  which 
poverty  inflicts,  that  the  Jew,  to  whose  fathers  wealth  was 
promised  as  a  reward  of  obedience,  a  token  of  Divine  favor, 
would  naturally  put  a  very  high  estimate  upon  it.  In  fact,  the 
pursuit  of  wealth  was  one  of  the  master  passions  of  that  age. 
Everything  else  was  made  subordinate  to  it.  It  usurped  the 
place  of  religion  itself,  and  drew  men  after  it  with  a  kind  of 
fanaticism.  Against  this  over-valuation  and  inordinate  pursuit 
of  wealth  our  Lord  protested.  Lai/  iiot  up  for  yourselves  treasures 
upon  earth, ....  l)ut  lay  tip  for  yourselves  treasures  in  heaven.  Here 
moral  excellence  is  put  in  contrast  with  physical  treasure. 
Men  are  to  seek  nobility  of  character,  riches  of  feeling,  strength 
of  manhood,  and  not  perishable  wealth.  Nor  can  they  divide 
their  hearts  between  vii'tue  and  riches  when  these  stand  in 
oi)position.  The  soul's  estate  must  be  the  supreme  ambition. 
Unity  and  simplicity  of  moral  j^urpose  is  indispensable  to  good- 
ness and  happiness.  The  reconciliation  of  avarice  with  devo- 
tion, of  self-indulgence  in  luxury  with  supreme  love  to  God, 
is  utterl}'  impossible.  One  may  serve  two  masters,  if  the  two 
are  of  one  mind  ;  one  may  serve  two  alternately,  even  if  they 
difl'er.  But  where  two  masters  represent  opposite  qualities  and 
wills,  and  each  demands  the  whole  service,  it  is  impossible  to 
serve  both.  Ye  cannot  serve  God  and  mammon.  The  absolute 
supremacy  of  man's  moral  nature  over  every  part  of  secular 
life  is  nowhere  taught  with  such  emphasis  and  solemnity  as  in 
Christ's  treatment  of  riches.  The  ardor  and  force  of  his  dec- 
larations might  almost  lead  one  to  suppose  that  he  forbade 
his  followers  all  participation  in  riches,  as  will  more  plainly 
appear  when  we  shall  give  a  summary  view  of  all  his  utter- 
ances on  that  topic. 

Not  only  did  Jesus  reprobate  the  spirit  of  avarice,  but  the 

(fe- -# 


a- 


THE  SERMON  ON  THE  MOUNT. 


265 


^ 


vulgar  form  of  it  which  exists  among  the  poor  came  under 
his  criticism.  All  grinding  anxiety  for  the  common  necessaries 
of  life    he    declared    to    be 

both    unwise    and    impious:  *!;*-. 

unwise,  because  it  did  no 
good  ;  impious,  because  it 
reflected  upon  God's  kind 
providence.  He  referred  to 
that  economy  in  nature  by 
which  everything  is  pro- 
vided for  in  the  simple  ex- 
ercise of  its  common  organ  ~ 
or  faculties ;  the  grass,  the 
lily,  the  sparrow,  had  but  to 
put  forth  their  respective 
powers,  and  nature  yielded 
all  their  needs.  Let  man,  a 
higher  being,  put  forth  his 
nobler  foculties, — reason  and 
the  moral  sentiments,  —  and 
a  life  guided  by  these  would 
be  sure  to  draw  in  its  train, 
not  only  virtue  and  happiness,  but  whatever  of  temporal  good 
is  necessary. 

There  is  no  worldly  wisdom  like  that  Avhich  springs  from  the 
moral  sentiments.  On  the  great  scale,  Piety  and  Plenty  go 
hand  in  hand.  He  that  secures  God  secures  his  favoring 
providence.  Man  is  governed  by  laws  which  reward  morality. 
Piety  itself  is  the  highest  morality.  Seek  ye  first  ilie  Mngdmn  of 
God  and  his  rigMcoiisness,  and  all  these  things  shall  he  added  vnto 
you.  The  sordid  anxieties  of  the  poor  and  the  avarice  of  the 
rich  spring  from  the  same  source,  and  are  alike  culpable.  Faith 
in  Divine  Providence  should  forestall  and  prevent  fretting  cares 
and  depressing  fears. 


t^ 

rn^-M 

'^■^^^8 

^^_^, 

- 

^''r^^m 

^^-r 

" 

"^^  i^ 

'■'^''f'ti- 

^-^■^    - 

,"     -' 

'    fy^^"^ 

5?'»  "^^r 

'  "-^"^'"'^ 

"-■" 

BL'KXixci  uitv  gi:ass 

IN    ()\  liXS. 

4 


This  matchless  discourse  closes  with  a  series  of  moral  truths 
that  are  clustered  together  more  like  a  chapter  from  the  Book 
of  Proverbs  than  like  the  flowing  sentences  of  an  ordinary  dis- 
course.    Censorious  judgments  of  our  fellow-men  are  forbidden. 


-ff 


[& 


-a 


266 


THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,   THE   CHRIST. 


Men  who  believe  themselves  to  hold  the  whole  truth,  and  pride 
themselves  on  knowledge  and  purity,  are  very  apt  to  look 
with  suspicion  and  contempt  on  all  that  are  not  orthodox  ac- 
cording to  their  standard.  Harsh  judgments  in  religious  matters 
seem  inseparable  from  a  state  in  which  conscience  is  stronger 
than  love.  Leniency  and  forgiveness  are  commanded  ;  blindness 
to  our  own  faults  and  sensitiveness  to  the  failings  of  others  are 
pointed  out.  Caution  is  enjoined  in  speaking  of  eminent  truths 
in  the  hearing  of  the  base.  The  fotherhood  of  God,  far  nobler 
and  kinder  than  any  earthly  fatherhood,  is  made  the  ground 
of  confident  supplication.  The  Golden  Rule  is  set  forth.  Re- 
ligion is  declared  not  to  be  an  indolent  luxury,  but  a  vehe- 
ment strife,  taxing  men's  resources 
to  the  uttermost.  His  disciples  are 
cautioned  against  false  teachers, 
against  sjoecious  morality,  against 
a  boastful  familiarity  with  Divine 
things  while  the  life  is  carnal  and 
secular ;  and,  finally,  his  heai'ers 
are  urged  to  a  jiractical  use  of  the 
Avhole  discourse  by  a  striking  pic- 
ture of  houses  built  upon  the  sand 
or  upon  the  rock,  and  their  respec- 
tive powers  of  endurance. 

1.  In  this  sermon  of  Jesus  there 
is  a  full  and  continual  disclosure 
of  a  Divine  consciousness  which  did 
not  leave  him  to  the  end  of  his 
career.  His  method  was  that  of 
simple  declaration,  and  not  of  reasoning  or  of  proof.  The 
simple  sentences  of  the  Sermon  fell  from  him  as  ripe  fruit 
from  the  bough  in  a  still  day.  Although  they  reached  out 
far  beyond  the  attainments  of  his  age,  and  developed  an  ideal 
style  of  character  and  a  sphere  of  morality  which  addressed 
itself  to  the  heroic  elements  in  man,  his  teachings  were  not 
labored  nor  elaborate,  but  had  the  completeness  and  brevity 
of  thoughts  most  familiar  to  him.  He  unfolded  the  old  na- 
tional fiiitli  to  its  innermost  nature.  In  liis  hands  it  glowed 
as  if  it  were  descended  from  heaven ;  and  yet  he  spoke  of  the 


nv   TIII'.IR   FRUITS    TF.   SIIAI.I.   KNOW   THEM. 


^ 


T 


THE  SERMOX  ON  THE  MOUNT.  267 

religion  of  the  Jews  with  the  authority  of  a  god,  and  not  with 
the  submissiveness  of  a  man.  He  stood  in  the  I'oad  along 
which  travelled  a  thousand  traditions  and  evil  glosses,  and 
turned  them  aside  b}'  his  simple,  imperial,  "I  say  imto  you"! 

There  was  no  inequality  or  unharmony  in  the  whole  dis- 
course. The  pitch  at  the  beginning  was  taken  fiir  above  the 
line  of  any  doctrine  then  in  practice,  and  to  the  end  the  ele- 
vation was  sustained.  It  was  the  teaching  of  one  who  saw 
men  as  men  had  never  j-et  been.  The  possible  manhood, 
never  yet  developed,  w^as  flimiliar  to  Jesus,  and  upon  that 
ideal  he  fashioned  every  precept.  Not  a  note  fell  from  the 
pitch.  Every  single  thought  was  brought  up  to  a  manhood  for 
transcending  that  of  his  own  age.  It  is  this  that  gives  to  the 
Sermon  on  the  Mount  an  air  of  impossibility.  Men  look  upon 
its  requisitions  as  exceeding  the  power  of  man.  But  none 
of  them  were  lowered  in  accommodation  to  the  moral  tone  of 
his  times,  every  one  of  them  chording  with  the  key-note, — 
Except  your  rigMeousncss  sJtall  exceed  the  rigldeousncss  of  the  Scribes 
and  Pharisees,  ye  shall  in  no  case  enter  into  the  kinydom  of  heaven. 

2.  In  its  spirit  and  secret  tendency  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount 
may  be  regarded  as  a  charter  of  personal  liberty.  It  does 
not  formally  proclaim  man's  freedom,  Ijut  no  one  can  follow  it 
without  that  result.  It  places  moi\al  life  upon  grounds  which 
irajDly  and  promote  moral  sovei'eignty  in  the  individual.  This 
it  does  by  removing  the  emphasis  of  authority  derived  from  all 
external  rules,  and  placing  it  in  man's  own  moral  consciousness. 
It  is  an  appeal  from  rules  to  principles.  Rules  are  mex*e  methods 
by  which  principles  are  specifically  applied.  Feeble  and  unde- 
veloped natures  need  at  each  step  a  formula  of  action.  They 
are  not  wise  enough  to  apply  a  principle  to  the  changing  cir- 
cumstances of  experience.  But  rules  that  help  the  weak  to 
follow  principle  should  tend  to  educate  them  to  follow  prin- 
ciple without  such  help.  Instead  of  that,  rulers,  teachers,  and 
hierarchs,  finding  them  convenient  instruments  of  authority, 
multiply  them,  clothe  them  with  the  sanctity  of  principles, 
and  hold  men  in  a  bondage  of  superstition  to  customs,  rites, 
and  arbitrary  regulations. 

The  appeal  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  is  always  to  the 
natural  grounds  of  right,  and  never  to  the  traditional,  the  his- 

^ ^ 


a- -^ 

268  THE  LIFE    OF  JESUS,    THE  CHRIST. 

torical,  and  the  ai'tificiul.  In  no  single  case  did  Jesus  institute 
a  method,  or  external  law.  Every  existing  custom  or  practice 
which  he  touched  he  resolved  back  to  some  natural  faculty  or 
principle.  By  shifting  the  legislative  power  from  the  external 
to  the  internal,  from  rules  to  principles,  from  synagogues  and 
Sanhedrim  to  the  living  moral  consciousness  of  men,  the  way 
was  prepared  for  great  expansion  of  reason  and  freedom  of 
conscience.  The  most  striking  example  of  philosophic  gener- 
alization in  history  is  that  by  which  Jesus  reduced  the  whole 
Mosaic  system  and  the  whole  substance  of  Jewish  literature 
into  the  simple  princijjle  of  love.  "Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord 
thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  thy  neighbor  as  thyself.  On 
these  iieo  commandments  hang  all  the  Law  and  the  Prophets.'^ 

This  discourse  recognizes  the  soul  as  the  man.  The  body  is 
only  a  passive  instrument.  Action  is  but  the  evidence  of  what 
is  going  on  within ;  it  has  no  moral  character,  good  or  bad, 
except  that  which  is  impressed  upon  it  by  the  faculties  which 
inspire  it.  A  man's  thoughts  and  cherished  feelings  determine 
his  character.  He  may  be  a  murderer,'  who  never  slays  his 
enemy;  an  adulterer,  who  never  fulfds  the  wishes  of  illicit  love; 
an  irreligious  man,  who  spends  his  life  in  offices  of  devotion ;  a 
selfish  creature,  whose  vanity  inspires  charitable  gifts.  It  is  the 
soul  that  determines  manhood.  Only  God  and  man's  self  can 
coutrol  these.  Man  is  the  love-servant  of  God,  and  sovereign 
of  himself  The  highest  personal  liberty  consists  in  the  ability 
and  willingness  of  man  to  do  right  from  inward  choice,  and  not 
from  external  influences. 

3.  In  this  inward  and  spiritual  element  we  have  the  solution 
of  difficulties  which  to  many  have  beset  what  may  be  called 
the  political  and  economic  themes  of  this  discoiu-se.  Jesus  dis- 
closed to  his  disciples  a  kingdom  in  which  no  man  should  em- 
ploy physical  force  in  self-defence  ;  and  yet  this  would  seem 
to  give  unobstructed  dominion  to  selfish  strength.  No  man  may 
resist  the  unlawful  demands  of  government,  —  let  him  rather 
do  cheerfully  far  more  than  is  wrongfully  required,  —  and  to 
every  aspect  of  phj'sical  force  he  would  have  his  disciples  op- 
pose only  the  calmness  and  kindness  of  benevolence;  yet  this 
would  seem  to  make  wicked  governments  secure.  The  history 
of  civilization  certainly  shows   that  society  can   redeem    itself 

^ ^ 


fl -ft 

THE  SERMON  ON  THE  MOUNT.  2G9 

from  barbarism  only  by  enterprise,  by  painstaking  industry,  by 
sagacious  foresight  and  reasonable  care  ;  but  Jesus  refers  his 
disciples  to  the  flowers  and  birds  as  exemplars  of  freedom  from 
care;  forbids  men  to  lay  up  treasure  on  earth,  or  to  live  in 
regard  to  earthly  things  more  than  by  the  single  day,  and  de- 
clares that  they  must  implicitly  trust  the  paternal  care  of  God 
for  all  their  wants.  Nay,  if  they  are  possessed  of  some  wealth, 
they  are  not  to  husband  it,  but  give  to  him  that  asketh  thee,  and 
from  him  that  umild  horroiv  of  thee  tuni  not  thou  aimy. 

It  is  certain  that  a  literal  interpretation  of  these  precepts 
respecting  giving,  lending,  resistance  of  evil,  forethought,  acqui- 
sition of  property  and  its  tenure  in  common,  would  bring  Chris- 
tianity into  conflict  with  every  ajiproved  doctrine  of  political 
economy,  and  would  seem  to  compel  man  to  spend  his  earthly 
life  in  little  more  than  meditation, — a  conception  which  might 
suit  the  natural  ease,  not  to  say  indolence,  of  an  Oriental  life 
in  a  gonial  tropical  climate,  but  which  would  seem  utterly  ruin- 
ous to  the  prosperity  of  a  vigorous  and  enterprising  race  in 
the  cold  zones  and  upon  a  penurious  soil.  To  insist  upon  a 
literal  fulfilment  of  any  economic  precepts  would  violate  the 
spirit  of  the  discourse,  whose  very  genius  it  is  to  release  men 
from  bondage  to  the  letter  and  bring  them  into  the  liberty  of 
the  spirit. 

It  is  very  certain  that  an  earnest  attempt  to  make  the  spirit 
of  these  precepts  the  rule  of  life  will  bring  out  in  men  a  moral 
force  of  transcendent  value,  and  that  among  primitive  Chris- 
tians, and  in  modern  days  in  the  small  company  of  Friends,  a 
remarkable  degree  of  prosperity  even  in  worldly  things  has 
followed  a  more  rigorous  interpretation  of  these  commands 
than  is  generally  practised.  On  the  other  hand,  the  attempt 
to  make  property  the  common  and  equal  possession  of  all  has 
led  to  some  of  the  worst  social  evils.  The  partial  success  which 
has  attended  the  experiment,  in  small  bodies,  has  been  at  the 
expense  of  a  general  development  of  the  individuals.  But 
whether  an  immediate  and  literal  obedience  to  Christ's  teach- 
ings upon  the  subject  of  property  and  industry  would  be  bene- 
ficial, or  would  be  possible  in  nations  not  placed  as  the  Jews 
were,  —  whether  the  weight  of  society  and  all  the  accumula- 
tions of  that  very  civilization  which  Christianity  has  produced 

* _^ 


a- — ^ -9] 

270  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

could  bo  sustained  upon  such  foundations,  —  hardly  admits  of 
debate.  If  his  precepts  were  meant  ever  to  be  taken  literally, 
it  must  have  been  in  a  condition  of  society  in  the  future,  of 
-which  there  Avas  yet  no  pattern  among  men. 

It  is  certain  that  every  step  which  human  life  has  ever 
taken  toward  a  full  realization  of  the  general  morality  of  the 
Sermon  on  the  Mount  has  develo])ed  an  unsuspected  and  won- 
derful prosjjerity,  moral  and  social. 

We  must  believe,  then,  that  Jesus  gave  this  grand  picture  of 
the  new  life  for  immediate  and  practical  use,  but  that  it  was 
to  be  interpreted,  not  by  the  narrowness  of  the  letter,  but  by 
the  largeness  of  the  spirit.  He  seemed  to  foresee  what  has  so 
often  appeared,  the  barren  admiration  of  men  who  praise  this 
discourse  as  a  power,  as  a  merely  ideal  justice,  as  a  beautiful 
but  impracticable  scheme  of  ethics  ;  for  he  turns  upon  such, 
at  the  close,  with  a  striking  jiarable  designed  to  enforce  the 
innnediate  application  of  his  teachings.  And  why  call  ye  me 
Lord,  Lord,  and  do  not  the  things  which  I  say  ?  Therefore 
whosoever  cometh  to  me,  and  heareth  these  sayings  of  mine, 
and  doeth  them,  I  will  show  you  to  whom  he  is  like :  he  is 
like  a  wise  man  which  built  his  house  and  digged  deep,  and 
laid  the  foundation  on  a  rock;  and  when  the  rain  descended, 
and  the  floods  came,  and  the  winds  blew,  and  the  storm  beat 
violently  upon  that  house  and  could  not  shake  it,  it  fell  not, 
for  it  was  founded  on  a  rock.  But  every  one  that  heareth 
these  sayings  of  mine,  and  doeth  them  not,  is  like  a  foolish 
man,  which  built  his  house  without  a  foundation  upon  the 
sand ;  and  the  rain  descended,  and  the  floods  came,  and  the 
Avinds  blew,  and  the  storm  did  beat  vehemently  upon  that 
house,  and  innnediately  it  fell,  and  great  was  the  fall  of  it. 

4.  The  hold  which  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  has  had,  and 
continues  to  have,  upon  men  of  diverse  temperaments  and  be- 
liefs, is  not  to  be  accounted  for  by  an  inventory  of  its  ethical 
points.  It  reached  to  the  very  centre  of  rectitude,  and  gave  to 
human  conduct  inspirations  that  will  never  diminish.  All  this 
might  have  been  done  in  unsympathetic  severity,  leaving  the 
Sermon  like  a  mountain  barrier  between  right  and  wrong,  so 
rugged,  barren,  and  solitary  that  men  would  not  love  to  as- 
cend or  frequent  it.     But  Jesus  breathed  over  the  whole  an  air 

^ ^ 


f 


■ft 


THE  SERMON  ON  THE  MOUNT. 


271 


of  genial  tranquillity  that  wins  men  to  it  as  to  a  garden.  The 
l^recepts  grow  like  flowers,  and  are  fragrant.  The  cautions  and 
condemnations  lie  like  sunny 
hedges  oi  walls  covered  with 
inoss  or  vines.  In  no  pai't  can 
it  be  called  di-eamy,  yet  it  is 
pervaded  by  an  element  of 
sweetness  and  peace,  which 
charms  us  none  the  less  be- 
cause it  eludes  analysis.  Lilie 
a  mild  day  in  early  June,  the 
sky,  the  earth,  the  air,  the  birds 
and  herbage,  things  near  and 
things  far  off,  seem  luider  some 
heavenly  influence.  The  heav- 
ens unfold,  and  in  place  of  dread- 
ful deities  we  behold  "  Our 
Father."  His  personal  care  is 
over  all  the  affairs  of  life.  The 
trials  of  this  mortal  sphere  go 
on  for  a  purpose  of  good,  and 
our  fears,  our  burdens,  and  our 
sufferings  are  neither  accidents 
nor  vengeful  puni.shments,  but 
a  discipline  of  education.  The 
end  of  life  is  a  glorified  manhood.  At  every  step  Jesus  involves 
the  nobler  motives  of  the  human  soul.  There  is  nothing  of  the 
repulsiveness  of  morbid  anatomy.  Where  the  knife  cut  to  the 
very  nerve,  it  was  a  clean  and  wholesome  blade,  that  carried 
no  poison.  The  whole  discourse  lifts  one  out  of  the  lower  life, 
and  sets  in  motion  those  higher  impulses  from  which  the  soul 
derives  its  strength  and  happiness.  While  it  has  neither  the 
rh3'thm  nor  the  form  of  poetry,  yet  an  ideal  element  in  it 
produces  all  the  charms  of  poetry.  Portions  of  the  Sermon 
might  be  chanted  in  low  tones,  as  one  sings  cheering  songs  in 
his  solitude.  It  is  full  of  light,  full  of  cheer,  full  of  faith  in 
Divine  love  and  of  the  certainty  of  possible  goodness  in  man. 
The  immeasurable  distance  between  the  flesh  and  the  spirit, 
between  the  animal  and  man,  is  nowhere  more  clearly  revealed 


LILIES   OF   PALESTINE. 


tB- 


4 


c&- ^ ^ a 

272  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

than  in  this  beautiful  discourse.  Thus  the  Son  of  God  stood 
among  men,  talking  with  them  face  to  face  as  a  brother,  and 
giving  to  them,  in  his  own  spirit,  glimpses  of  that  heavenly 
rest  for  which  all  the  world,  at  times,  doth  sigh. 

The  Sermon  on  the  Mount  di-ew  a  line  which  left  the  great 
body  of  the  influential  men  of  his  country  on  one  side,  and 
Jesus  and  his  few  disciples  on  the  other.  If  it  were  to  be 
merely  a  discourse,  and  nothing  else,  it  might  be  tolerated. 
But  if  it  was  a  ^jolicy,  to  be  followed  up  by  active  measures, 
it  was  scarcely  less  than  an  open  declaration  of  war.  The 
Pharisees  were  held  up  by  name  to  the  severest  criticism. 
Their  philosophy  and  their  most  sacred  religious  customs  were 
mercilessly  denounced,  and  men  were  warned  against  their  ten- 
dencies. The  influence  of  the  ci-iticisms  upon  fasting,  prayer, 
and  almsgiving  was  not  limited  to  these  special  topics,  but 
must  have  been  regarded  as  an  attack  upon  the  whole  method 
of  worship  by  means  of  cumbersome  rituals.  Ritualism  was 
not  expressly  forbidden ;  but  if  the  invisible  was  to  be  so 
highly  esteemed,  if  simplicity,  heart  purity,  spirituality,  and 
absolute  privac}^  of  spiritual  life,  were  to  be  accepted  as  the 
governing  ideals  of  worship,  all  authoritative  and  obligatory 
ritualism  would  wither  and  drop  away  from  the  I'ipened  grain 
as  so  much  chaff, — without  prejudice,  however,  to  the  spon- 
taneous use  of  such  material  forms  in  worship  as  may  be  found 
by  any  one  to  be  specially  heljiful  to  him.  Neither  in  this 
sermon  nor  in  any  after  discourse  did  Jesus  encourage  the  use 
of  symbols,  if  we  except  Baptism  and  the  Lord's  Supper.  He 
never  rebuked  men  for  neglect  of  forms,  nor  put  one  new 
interpretation  to  them,  nor  added  a  line  of  atti'active  color. 
The  whole  land  was  full  of  ritual  customs.  The  days  were  all 
marked.  The  very  hours  were  numbered.  Every  emotion  had 
its  channel  and  course  pointed  out.  Men  were  drilled  to  re- 
ligious methods,  until  all  spontaneity  and  personal  liberty  had 
wellnigh  become  extinct.  In  the  midst  of  such  artificial  ways, 
Christ  stands  up  as  an  emancipator.  He  appeals  directly  to 
the  reason  and  to  the  conscience  of  men.  He  founds  nothmg 
upon  the  old  authority.  He  even  confronts  the  "  common  law  " 
of  his  nation  with  his  own  personal  authority,  as  if  his  words 


t-- 


■ff 


THE  SERMON   ON   THE  MOUNT.  273 

would  touch  a  responsive  feeling  in  every  heart.  "Ye  have 
heard  that  it  was  said  by  them  of  old  time,"  —  But  I  sui]  unto 
you.  This  was  an  appeal  from  all  the  past  to  the  living  con- 
sciousness of  the  present.  It  was  so  understood.  There  was 
an  unmistakable  and  imperial  force  in  that  phi'ase,  "I  say  unto 
you";  and  when  the  last  sentence  had  been  heard,  there  was 
a  stii',  and  the  universal  feeling  broke  out  in  the  expression. 
"  He  teaches  as  one  having  authority,  and  not  as  the  Scribes." 

Whatever  may  have  kept  the  Pharisees  silent,  there  can  be 
no  doubt  that  this  discourse  was  regarded  by  them  as  an  end 
of  peace.  Henceforth  their  only  thought  was  how  to  compass 
the  downfall  of  a  dangerous  man,  who  threatened  to  alienate 
the  people  from  their  religious  control.  Every  day  Jesus 
would  now  be  more  closely  watched.  His  enemies  were  all 
the  while  in  secret  counsel.  Step  by  step  they  followed  him, 
from  the  slopes  of  Mount  Hattin  to  the  simimit  of  Calvary ! 


^ ^ 


fi- 


-a 


VILLAGE  OF   NAIN,    AMI    LITTLE   IIERMON. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 


THE    BEGINNING   OF   CONFLICT. 


THE  crowd  did  not  disperse  or  open  to  let  Jesus  pass  through, 
but  closed  about  him  and  thronged  his  steps,  as  he  returned 
home  to  Capernaum.  His  discourses  seem  to  have  foscinated 
the  people  almost  as  much  as  his  Avonderful  deeds  astonished 
them.  We  do  not  imagine  that  the  walk  was  a  silent  one. 
There  must  have  been  much  conversation  by  the  way,  much 
discussion,  and  doubtless  many  replies  of  wisdom  and  benefi- 
cence from  Jesus  not  less  striking  than  the  sentences  of  the 
sermon.  From  this  time  forth  the  life  of  Jesus  is  crowded  with 
dramatic  incidents.  Nowhere  else  do  we  find  so  man}^  events 
of  great  moral  significance  painted  with  unconscious  skill  by  so 
few  strokes.  Their  number  perplexes  our  attention.  Like  stars 
in  a  rich  cluster  in  the  heavens,  they  rim  together  into  a  haze 
of  brightness,  to  be  resolved  into  their  separate  elements  only 
by  the  strongest  glass.  Each  incident,  if  drawn  apart  and 
studied  separately,  affords  food  for  both  the  imagination  and 
the  heart. 

By  one  occurrence  a  striking  insight  is  given  into  the  rela- 


^ 


w 


— — a 

THE  BEGINNING    OF   CONFLICT.  275 

tions  which  sometimes  subsisted  between  the  Jews  and  their 
conquerors.  Not  a  few  Romans,  it  may  be  believed,  were  won 
to  the  Jewish  religion.  The  centurion  of  Capernaum,  without 
doubt,  was  a  convert.  We  cannot  conceive  otherwise  that  he 
should  have  built  the  Jews  a  synagogue,  and  that  he  should  be 
on  such  intimate  terms  with  the  rulers  of  it  as  to  make  them 
his  messengers  to  Jesus.  This  Eoman,  like  so  many  other  sub- 
jects of  the  Gospel  record,  has  come  down  to  us  without  a 
name,  and,  except  a  single  scene,  without  a  history. 

Soon  after  the  return  of  Jesus  to  Capernaum,  he  was  met 
(Avhere,  it  is  not  said)  by  the  rulers  of  the  synagogue,  bearing 
an  earnest  request  from  the  centurion  that  he  would  heal  a 
favorite  slave,  who  lay  sick  and  at  the  point  of  death.  The 
honorable  men  who  bore  the  message  must  have  been  well 
known  to  Jesus,  and  their  importunity  revealed  their  own  in- 
terest in  their  errand.  "They  besought  him  instantly,  saying 
that  he  was  worthy  for  whom  he  should  do  this."  Nor  should 
we  fail  to  notice  this  appeal  made  to  the  patriotism  of  Jesus, 
which,  coming  from  men  who  were  familiar  with  his  life  and 
teachings,  indicates  a  marked  quality  of  his  disposition.  "He 
loveth  our  nation,  and  he  hath  built  us  a  synagogue."  That 
the  heart  of  Jesus  was  touched  is  shown  in  that  he  required 
no  tests  of  faith,  but  with  prompt  sympathy  said,  "  I  will  come 
and  heal  him."  And,  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  he  went 
with  them  at  once  to  the  centurion's  house. 

Learning  that  Jesus  was  drawing  near,  the  centurion  sent 
another  deputation,  whose  message,  both  for  courtesy  and  for  hu- 
mility, in  one  born  to  command,  was  striking,  —  "Lord,  trouble 
not  thyself;  for  I  am  not  worthy  that  thou  shouldest  enter 
under  my  roof:  wherefore  neither  thought  I  myself  worthy  to 
come  unto  thee ;  but  speak  the  word  only,  and  my  servant  shall 
be  healed."  Then,  alluding  to  his  own  command  over  his  fol- 
lowers, he  implies  that  Jesus  has  but  to  make  known  his  will, 
and  all  diseases,  and  life,  and  death  itself,  would  obey  as 
promptly  as  soldiers  the  word  of  command.  The  whole  scene 
filled  Jesus  with  pleasurable  astonishment.  He  loved  the  sight 
of  a  noble  nature.  And  yet  the  contrast  between  the  hardness 
of  his  unbelieving  countrymen  and  the  artless  dignity  of  faith 
manifested  by  this  heathen  foreigner  brought  grief  to  his  heart. 

^ ^ 4 


f- -a 

276  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

j  It  suggested  the  rejection  of  Israel  and  the  ingathering  of  the 
!  Gentiles.  Many  shall  come  from  the  east  and  west,  and  shall 
'  sit  down  with  Abraham  and  Isaac  and  Jacob  in  the  kingdom 
of  heaven ;  but  the  children  of  the  kingdom  shall  be  cast  out 
into  outer  darkness.  Then  turning  to  the  messenger  he  said, 
'•  Go  thy  way ;  and  as  thou  hast  believed,  so  be  it  done  unto 
thee."     The  servant  was  instantly  healed. 

The  severity  of  tone  with  which  Jesus  spoke  of  the  unbelief 
of  the  leaders  of  his  people,  and  of  his  rejection  by  them,  is 
I  only  one  among  many  indications  of  the  I'ising  intensity  of  his 
j  feelings  at  this  period.  Every  day  seemed  to  develop  in  him 
a  higher  energy.  His  calmness  did  not  forsake  him,  but  the 
I  sovereignty  of  his  nature  was  every  hour  more  apparent.  He 
I  was  now  more  than  ever  to  grapple  with  demonic  influences, 
I  and  to  overcome  them.  He  was  about  to  make  his  power  felt 
I  in  the  realms  of  death,  and  bring  back  to  life  those  who  had 
!  passed  from  it.  The  conduct  of  his  family  and  the  criticisms  of 
I  the  jealous  Pharisees,  as  we  shall  soon  see,  plainly  enough  in- 
j  dicate  that  this  elevation  of  spirit  manifested  itself  in  his  whole 
I  carriage,  and  many  even  believed  that  he  was  insane,  or  else 
I       under  infernal  influences. 

On  the  day  following  the  healing  of  the  centurion's  servant, 
Jesus,  on  one  of  the  short  excursions  which  he  was  wont  to 
make  from  Capernaum,  came  to  the  village  of  Nain,  on  the 
slope  of  Little  Hermon  and  nearly  south  of  Nazareth,  on  the 
edge  of  the  great  plain  of  Esdraelon.  In  the  rocky  sides  of 
the  hill  near  by  were  hewn  the  burial-chambers  of  the  village, 
and  toward  them,  as  Jesus  drew  near,  was  slowly  proceeding  a 
funeral  train.  It  was  a  widowed  mother  bearing  her  only  son 
to  the  sepulchre.  She  was  well  known,  and  the  circumstances 
of  her  great  loss  had  touched  the  sympathies  of  her  townsfolk, 
'•  and  much  people  of  the  city  was  with  her."  His  first  word 
was  one  of  courage  to  the  disconsolate  mourner,  —  "Weep  not!" 
He  then  laid  his  hand  upon  the  bier.  Such  was  his  countenance 
and  commanding  attitude  that  the  procession  halted.  There  was 
to  be  no  deluding  ceremony,  no  necromancy.  "  Young  man, 
I  say  unto  thee,  Arise ! "  The  blood  again  beat  from  his  heart, 
the  light  dawned  upon  his  eyes,  and  his  breathing  lips  spake ! 
There  is  no  ofrief  like  a  mother's  grief.     No  one  who  has  the 


B- 


^ 


a- 

THE  BEGINNING    OF   CONFLICT.  277 

heai"t  of  a  son  can  see  a  great  nature  given  uji  to  inconsolable 
sori'ow  without  sympathy.  It  was  not  the  mission  of  Jesus  to 
stay  the  hand  of  death,  nor  did  he  often  choose  to  bring  back 
the  spirit  that  had  once  fled ;  but  there  seem  to  have  been 
two  motives  here  for  his  interposition.  The  overwhelming  grief 
of  the  widowed  mother  wrought  strongly  upon  his  sympathy, 
and  there  were  special  reasons  why  he  should  just  now  make 
a  supreme  manifestation  of  his  Divine  power.  Every  day  the 
leaven  of  opposition  to  him  was  working.  Openly  or  insidi- 
ously, he  Avas  resisted  and  vilified.  His  own  spirit  evidently 
was  roused  to  intensity,  and  began  to  develop  an  elevation  and 
force  which  far  surpassed  any  hitherto  put  forth.  At  such  a 
time,  the  restoration  to  life  of  a  dead  man,  in  the  presence  of 
so  vast  a  throng,  could  not  but  produce  a  deep  impression,  it 
was  an  act  of  sovereignty  which  would  render  powerless  the 
efforts  of  the  emissaries  from  Jerusalem  to  wean  the  common 
people  from  his  influence.  This  end  seems  to  have  been  gained. 
The  people  were  electrified,  and  cried  out,  "A  great  prophet  is 
risen  up  among  us ! "  others  said,  "  God  hath  visited  his  people." 
The  tidings  of  this  act  ran  through  the  nation;  not  only  in 
"  the  region  round  about,"  but  "  the  rumor  of  him  went  forth 
throughout  all  Judaea." 

The  battle  now  begins.  Everywhere  he  carried  with  him  the 
enthusiastic  multitude.  Everywhere  the  Temple  party,  lurking 
about  his  steps,  grew  more  determined  to  resist  the  reforma- 
tion and  to  destroy  the  reformer.  We  are  not  to  suppose  that 
the  presence  and  the  miracles  of  Jesus  produced  the  same  effect 
upon  the  mifltitudes  present  with  him  that  the}'  do  upon  de- 
vout and  believing  souls  now.  Our  whole  life  has  been  educated 
by  the  discourses  of  this  Divine  Man.  We  do  violence  to  our 
nature,  to  all  our  associations  and  sympathies,  if  we  do  Jiot 
believe.  But  in  the  crowds  which  surrounded  Jesus  in  his 
lifetime  there  was  every  conceivable  diversity  of  disposition ; 
and  though  curiosity  and  wonder  and  a  general  social  exhila- 
ration were  common  to  all,  these  were  not  valuable  in  the  eyes 
of  Jesus.  The  insatiable  hunger  of  Orientals  for  signs  and  won- 
ders was  even  a  hindrance  to  his  designs  of  instruction.  In 
every  way  he  repressed  this  vague  and  fruitless  excitement.  The 
deeper  moral  emotions  which  he  most  esteemed  were  produced 

^ ^ ^ 


^ a 

278  THE  LIFE   OF  JFSUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

in  very  imperfect  fonns  and  in  but  comparatively  few  persons. 
Cautious  men  held  their  convictions  in  suspense.  Many  favored 
him  and  followed  him  without  really  committing  themselves  to 
his  cause. 

There  will  always  be  men  who  will  show  fiivor  to  the  hero 
of  the  hour.  Such  a  one  was  Simon  the  Pharisee,  who  prob- 
ably dwelt  in  Nain  or  in  its  neighborhood,  for  at  that  time  this 
whole  region  was  populous  and  prosperous.  It  had  not  then 
been  given  over  to  the  incursions  of  the  Bedouins,  who  for  cen- 
turies have  by  continual  ravages  kept  this  beautiful  territory 
in  almost  complete  desolation. 

Invited  to  the  house  of  Simon  to  dine,  Jesus  repaired  thither 
with  his  disciples.  There  went  with  him,  also,  vuibidden  guests. 
Not  the  widowed  mother  alone  had  felt  the  sympathy  of  his 
nature.  While  he  was  bringing  back  to  life  her  son,  there  was 
in  the  crowd  one  who  felt  the  need  of  a  resurrection  from  the 
dead  even  more  than  if  her  body,  rather  than  her  honor,  had 
died.  In  the  presence  of  Jesus  the  sense  of  her  degradation 
became  unendurable.  In  him  she  beheld  a  benefactor  who 
might  rescue  her.  All  men  despised  her.  Her  reputation,  like 
a  brazen  wall,  stood  between  her  and  reformation.  For  her 
there  were  no  helpers.  Bad  men  were  friendly  only  for  evil. 
Moral  men  shut  up  their  sympathies  from  one  who  was  an  out- 
cast. The  gratitude  of  the  mother  for  her  child  restored  must 
have  been  like  incense  to  the  sensitive  soul  of  Jesus.  But  it 
is  doubtful  whether  he  did  not  more  profoundly  rejoice  in  the 
remorse,  the  ab.sorbing  grief,  the  hope  struggling  against  de- 
spair, that  filled  the  bosom  of  this  unknown  Magdalen. 

As  Jesus  reclined  at  dinner,  according  to  the  Oriental  custom, 
this  penitent  woman,  coming  behind,  without  word  or  permission, 
wept  at  the  feet  of  Jesus  unrebuked.  So  copiously  flowed  her 
tears  that  his  feet  were  wet,  and  with  her  dishevelled  locks  she 
sought  to  remove  the  sacred  tears  of  penitence.  The  very  per- 
fumes which  had  been  provided  for  her  own  person  she  lavished 
upon  this  stranger's  feet.  That  she  was  not  spurned  was  to  her 
trembling  heart  a  sign  of  grace  and  favor.  When  the  Pharisee 
beheld,  Avithout  sympathy,  the  forbearance  of  Jesus,  it  stirred  up 
his  heart  against  his  guest.  Like  many  others  he  had  been  in 
suspense  as  to  the  true  character  of  the  man.     Now  the  decis- 

^ ^ 


^ a 

THE  BEGINNING   OF   CONFLICT.  279 

ion  was  unfavorable.     It  was  clear  that  he  was  not  a  jDrophet 
of  God.     "  This  man,  if  he  were  a  prophet,"  he  said  within  him- 
self, "  would  have  known  who  and  what  manner  of  woman  this 
is  that  toucheth  him:  for  she  is  a  sinner."     He  could  not  con- 
ceive of  a  divinity  of  compassion.     God,  to  his  imagination,  was 
only  an  enlarged  Pharisee,  careful  of  his  own  safety,  and  care- 
less of  those  made  wretched  by  their  own  sins.     These  thoughts 
were  interpreted  upon  his  countenance  by  a  look  of  displeasure 
and  contempt.     He  did  not  expect  to  be  humbled  in  the  sight 
of  all  his  guests  by  an  exposition  of  his  own  inhospitality;  for 
it  seems  that  while  he  had  invited  Jesus  to  dine,  it  was  more 
from  curiosity   than  respect,  and  he  seems  to  have  considered 
that  the  favor  which  he  thus  conferred  released  him  from  those 
rites  which  belong  to  Oriental .  hospitality.     In  a  parable,  Jesus 
propounded  to  him  a  question.     If  a  creditor  generously  forgives 
two  debtors,  one  of  fifty  pence  and  the  other  of  five  hundred, 
which  will  experience  the  most  gratitude  ?      The   answer  was 
obvious,  "  I  suppose  that  he  to  whom  he  forgave  most."     "  Thou 
hast  rightly  judged."     Then,  in  simple  phrase,  but  with  terrible 
emphasis,  he  contrasted  the  conduct  of  this  fallen  woman  with 
the  insincere  hospitality  of  the  host.      "  Seest  thou  this  woman  ? 
I  entered  into  thine  house,   thou  gavest  me  no  water  for  my 
feet :  but  she  hath  washed  my  feet  with  tears,  and  wiped  them 
with  the  hairs  of  her  head.     Thou  gavest  me  no  kiss :   but  this 
woman  since  the  time  I  came   in  hath  not  ceased  to  kiss  my 
feet.     My  head  with  oil  thou  didst  not  anoint :  but  this  woman 
hath  anointed  my  feet  with  ointment.     Wherefore   I  say  mito 
thee.  Her   sins,  which  are  many,  are  forgiven;    for  she  loved 
much  :    but  to  whom  httle  is  forgiven,  the  same  loveth  httle." 
With  ineffable  grace,  Jesus  turns  from  the  Pharisee,  silent  under 
this  febuke,  to  the  woman  :  "  Thy  sins  are  forgiven."     The  effect 
produced  upon  the   company  shows  that  these  words  were  no 
mere  pious  phrases,  but  were  uttered  with  an  authority  which 
a  mere  man  had  no  right  to  assume.      "  Who  is  this  that  for- 
giveth  sins  also  ?  "     Truly,  who  can  forgive  sins  but  God  only  ? 
Jesus  did  not  deign  an   explanation.     In   the  same  lofty  mood 
of  sovereignty    he    dismissed    the    ransomed    soul :    "  Thy   faith 
hath   saved    thee ;    go    in    peace."      But   such    a   gracious    sen- 
tence was  the  strongest  possible  confirmation  of  their  judgment 


iB- 


m 


[S a 

280  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

that  he  had  assumed  to  perform  the  functions  of  a  Divine 
Being. 

We  shall  hereafter  find  many  a  brief  controversy  in  which  a 
parable,  or  a  simple  question  touching  the  marrow  of  things, 
puts  his  adversaries  to  silence,  convicting  them  even  when  they 
would  not  be  convinced.  Upon  this  day  thei'e  had  been  two 
deaths,  and  the  living  death  the  most  piteous  and  least  pitied 
among  men :  two  resurrections,  and  the  less  marvellous  of  the 
two  was  the  more  wondered  at :  two  proofs  of  Divinity,  —  one 
to  the  senses,  and  impressive  to  the  lowest  and  highest  alike  ; 
the  other  transcendently  brighter,  but  perceived  only  by  those 
whose  moral  sensibilities  gave  them  spiritual  eyesight.  The  fur- 
ther history  of  the  widow's  son  is  not  recorded.  For  a  moment 
he  stands  forth  with  singular  distinctness,  and  then  sinks  back 
into  forgetfulnoss,  without  name  or  memorial. 

At  about  this  time  the  figure  of  John  comes  for  a  moment 
to  the  light.  He  had  probably  lain  for  six  months  in  his  prison 
at  Macha^rus.  Although  in  his  yoiith  he  had  been  trained  in 
solitude,  it  was  the  solitude  of  freedom  and  of  the  wilderness. 
There  is  evidence  that  his  long  confinement  in  prison  began 
to  wear  upon  his  spirits.  It  is  true  that  he  was  not  wholly 
cut  ofi"  from  the  companionship  of  men.  As  John's  offence  was 
political  only  in  pretence,  Herod  did  not  guard  his  prisoner  so 
but  that  his  disciples  had  access  to  him.  Can  we  doubt  what 
was  the  one  theme  of  the  Baptist's  inquiry  ?  The  work  which 
he  had  begun,  which  Jesus  was  to  take  up,  —  how  fared  it? 
Why  was  there  no  overwhelming  disclosure  of  the  new  king- 
dom ?  Of  what  use  were  discourses  and  wonderful  works  so  long 
as  the  nation  stood  unmoved  ?  A  long  time  had  elapsed  since 
Christ's  baptism.  He  had  not  openly  proclaimed  even  his  Mes- 
siah.ship.  He  had  not  gathered  his  followers  either  into  a  church 
or  an  army.  He  gave  no  signs  of  lifting  that  banner  which  was 
to  lead  Israel  to  universal  supremacy.  He  was  spending  his 
days  in  GaUlee,  far  from  Jerusalem,  the  pi'oper  capital  of  the 
new  kingdom  as  of  the  old,  and  among  a  largely  foreign  popu- 
lation. Nor  was  he  denouncing  the  wickedness  of  his  times  as 
John  did,  nor  keeping  the  reserve  of  a  lofty  sanctity,  but  w^as 
teaching  in  villages  like  a  prophet-schoolmaster,  I'eceiving  the 
fi-equent  hospitality  of  the  rich,  and  even  partaking  of  social  fes- 

^ ^ 


a-- 


THE  BEGINNING    OF   CONFLICT.  281 


tivities  and  public  banquets.  Many  of  John's  disciples,  as  we 
know,  were  with  Jesus  during  several  of  his  journeys,  attentive 
Hsteners  and  observers.  Many  openly  adhered  to  the  new 
leader,  and  all  seemed  friendly.  But  it  is  natural  that  a  few 
should  be  jealous  for  their  old  master,  and  that  they  should 
prefer  the  downright  hnpetuosity  of  John  to  the  calmer  and 
gentler  method  of  Jesus.  They  would  naturally  carry  back  to 
the  solitary  man  in  prison  accounts  colored  by  their  feelings. 
To  all  this  should  be  added  that  depression  of  spirits  which 
settles  upon  an  energetic  nature  when  no  longer  connected  with 
actual  affairs.  Much  of  hope  and  courage  springs  from  sympa- 
thy and  contact  with  society.  We  grow  uncertain  of  things 
which  we  can  no  longer  see. 

Whatever  may  have  been  John's  mood  and  its  causes,  it  is 
certain  that  the  message  which  he  now  sent  to  Jesus  implied 
distressing  doubts,  which  were  reprehended  by  the  closing  sen- 
tence of  Jesus's  reply,  Blessed  is  he,  whosoever  shall  not  be  of  ended 
in  me.  John  was  in  danger  of  losing  faith  in  Jesus,  and  there 
is  an  almost  piteous  tone  of  entreaty  in  the  inquiry  which  he 
sent  his  disciples  to  make  :  "  Art  thou  he  that  should  come  ? 
or  look  we  for  another?"  Of  what  use  would  be  an  assev- 
eration in  words,  or  an  apologetic  explanation  ?  There  was 
a  more  cogent  reply.  It  would  seem  that  Jesus  delayed  his 
answer,  and  went  on  with  his  teaching  and  miracles  in  the  pres- 
ence of  John's  waiting  disciples.  "  In  that  same  hour  he  cured 
many  of  their  infirmities  and  plagues,  and  of  evil  spirits  ;  and 
unto  many  that  were  blind  he  gave  sight."  It  is  possible  that 
these  messengers  had  been  with  Jesus  at  l^ain  and  beheld  the 
raising  of  the  widow's  son,  since  he  mentions  the  raising  of  the 
dead'  as  one  of  the  acts  of  power  which  they  had  witnessed, 
and  the  widow's  son  was  the  first  instance  recorded.  During 
his  ministry  only  three  cases  of  this  kind  are  mentioned,  namely, 
the  young  man  at  Nain,  the  daughter  of  Jairus,  and  Lazarus,  the 
brother  of  Mary  and  Martha.  Yet  it  by  no  means  follows  that 
these  were  the  only  instances. 

These  wonderful  deeds,  enacted  before  their  eyes,  were  the 
answer  which  they  were  to  carry  back.  It  implies  the  essential 
nobility  of  John's  nature,  as  if  he  only  needed  to  be  brought 
into  sympath}'  with  such  living   work   to   recognize   the  Divine 

t ^ 


W 


f 


^^ 


282 


THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 


power.  "•  Go, ....  tell  John  these  things  which  ye  have  seen 
and  heard :  how  that  the  blind  receive  their  sight,  and  the  lame 
walk,  the  lepers  are  cleansed,  and  the  deaf  hear,  the  dead  are 
raised  up,  and  the  poor  have  the  gospel  preached  unto  them." 

It  was  not  the  rumor  of  wonderful  works  that  John's  messen- 
gers were  to  carry  back,  but  the  testimony  of  what  they  them- 
selves had  "seen  and  heard."  No  rumor  could  surpass  the 
reality  ;  none  of  all  the  special  deeds  performed  woidd  be  likely 
to  satisfy  the  mind  of  John  so  much  as  the  greatest  marvel  of 
all,  —  that  one  had  appeared  to  whom  the  poor  were  an  object 
of  solicitude  !  Not  the  healing  of  the  sick,  nor  even  the  raising 
of  the  dead,  was  so  surprising  as  that  a  person  clothed  with 
Divine  power,  able  to  draw  to  him  the  homage  of  the  rich  and 
of  the  influential,  should  address  himself  specially  to  the  poor. 
Wonders  and  miracles  might  be  counterfeited ;  but  a  sympathy 
with  suffermg  and  helplessness  so  tender,  so  laborious,  and  so 
long  continued,  was  not  likely  to  be  simulated.  Such  humanity 
was  unworldly  and  divine. 

Ample  provision  was  made  among  the  Jews  for  the  instruction 
of  all  the  families  of  the  nation,  but  the  great  disasters  which 
had  befallen  that  people  had  interrupted  the  action  of  this  be- 
nevolent polity.  Sifted  in  among  the  native  Jews,  especially  in 
Galilee,  were  thousands  of  foreigners,  many,  of  them  extremely 
ignorant,  debased,  and  poor,  who  were  objects  of  religious  preju- 
dice and  aversion.  The  Mosaic  institutes  breathed  a  spirit  of 
singidar  humanity  toward  the  poor.  No  nation  of  antiquity  can 
show  such  benevolent  enactments ;  nor  can  Christian  nations 
boast  of  any  advance  in  the  temper  or  polity  by  which  the 
evils  of  poverty  are  alleviated  and  the  weak  preserved  from  the 
oppression  of  the  strong.  It  was  promised  to  the  ancient  Jew, 
at  least  by  implication,  that,  if  he  maintained  the  Divine  econo- 
my established  by  Moses,  "  there  shall  be  no  poor  among  you  " 
(Deut.  XV.  4,  5).  In  the  palmy  days  of  Israel  there  were  no 
beggars;    and  there  is  no  Hebrew  word  for  begging.'     But  in 

'  Professor  T.  J.  Conaiit,  of  Brooklyn,  for  many  years  engaged  in  the  translation  and 
revision  of  the  Swipturcs  for  the  American  Hible  Union,  a  friend  to  whom  I  am  in- 
debted for  many  valuable  suggestions  in  matters  of  scholarly  research,  writes  me,  in 
reference  to  this,  as  follows  :  — 

'■  There  is  no  word  in  Hebrew  that  specifically  means  to  beg.  Three  verbs,  ^HV 
in  Ival  to  ask,  Piel  to  ask  importunately,  Wt)^  to  seek,  and  \ay\  to  search  for,  to  seek,  are 


^- 


& 


0- 

THE  BEGINNING   OF   CONFLICT.  283 

the  distemper  of  those  later  times  all  regard  for  the  poor  had 
wellnigh  perished.  Jesus  renewed  the  old  national  feeling  in 
a  nobler  form.  Himself  poor,  the  child  of  the  poor,  he  devoted 
himself  to  the  welfare  of  the  needy ;  and  though  he  associated 
freely  with  all  ranks  and  classes  of  people,  his  sympathy  for  the 
poor  never  waned,  and  his  ministrations  continued  to  the  very 
end  to  be  chiefly  among  them. 

John's  disciples  depart.  The  great  excitable  and  fickle  crowd 
remain.  How  easily  they  had  let  go  of  John !  How  eao-erly 
they  had  taken  up  Jesus !  How  quickly  would  they  rush  after 
the  next  novelty  !  Like  the  tides,  this  changeable  people  were 
always  coming  and  going,  under  influences  which  they  could 
neither  control  nor  understand.  It  did  not  please  Jesus  to  see 
them  the  sport  of  every  fantastic  creation  that  could  dazzle 
them  with  pretentious  novelties. 

What  went  ye  out  into  the  wilderness  for  to  see  ?  A  reed 
shaken  wiih  the  wind?  It  was  as  if  he  had  said,  Now  it  is  a 
mountebank,  shrewd  and  shifty,  that  sends  you  roamino-  into 
some  gathering-place,  hoping  for  deliverance  from  the  oppressor 
at  the  hands  of  one  who  only  plays  on  your  credulity  for  his 
own  benefit,  and  is  himself  swayed  hither  and  thither  by  the 
breath  of  self-interest,  like  a  reed  quivering  in  the  wind ! 

Turning  to  others,  he  said :  But  what  went  ye  out  for  to  see  ? 
A  man  clothed  in  soft  raiment?  Did  j^ou  expect  deliverance  would 
come  to  Israel  from  rich  and  luxurious  men,  pleasure-loving 
courtiers  ?  Look  for  such  men  only  in  courts  and  mansions. 
They  will  never  task  themselves  for  this  peoj^le,  but  will  bask 
in  sumptuous  palaces. 

strained  from  their  natural  sense  to  express  begging,  for  lack  of  a  proper  expression  of  it ; 
and  this  in.only  four  passages. 

"  The  first,  h^v  (compare  Judges  v.  25,  'he  asked  water'),  Kal  form,  is  used  in  Prov- 
erbs XX.  4,  'shall  beg  in  harvest,' —  properly,  shall  ask  help;  Piel  (intensive).  Psalm  cLx. 
10,  '  let  his  children  be  vagabonds  and  beg,'  —  properly,  ask  importunately. 

"The  second,  »p3  (participle),  is  used  in  Psalm  xxxvii.  25,  'nor  his  seed  begs^ing 
bread,' —  properly,  sccliii;/ hrcail.  as  it  is  transl.ated  in  Lamentations  i.  19, 'they  sought 
their  meat.' 

"The  third,  H'^-j,  is  used  in  Psalm  cix.  10,  2d  member,  Eng.  V.,  'let  them  seek  (their 
bread).'  Gesenius  needlessly  gives  it  (here  only)  the  sense  to  hecj.  The  mcanino-  is, 
let  them  seek  (help),  he  seekers,  far  from  their  ruined  homes. 

'•  The  word  '  beggar,'  in  1  Samuel  ii.  8,  is  a  mistranslation  of  ITDX,  needy,  poor. 

"  I  tliink  it  enth-ely  safe  to  say,  as  you  have  done,  that  '  there  is  no  Hebrew  word  for 
becsinij.' " 


^ 


eg- 


i| 


^ 


■a 


284  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

Turning  again  to  others,  Jesus  said  :  But  what  went  //c  out 
for  to  see  ?  A  prophet  ^  A  great  reformer,  tianiing  with  indig- 
nation at  evil,  and  vehement  in  rebuke  ?  John  was  indeed  a 
prophet,  eminent  above  the  great  brotherhood  of  former  days. 
No  other  prophet  was  ever  like  him;  and  yet  even  John  can 
never  bring  in  that  kingdom  which  God  has  proniised  to  his 
people.  The  kingdom  of  the  spirit  is  not  physical  nor  forceful. 
It  dwells  in  the  heart.  It  is  the  empire  within  the  soul,  pure, 
spontaneous,  benevolent.  Even  the  least  mendjer  of  this  king- 
dom of  the  spirit  is  greater  tiian  the  greatest  prophet  of  the 
old  and  external  dispensation. 

This  was  the  language  of  criticism  and  rebuke.  It  contrasted 
the  eagerness  which  many  among  his  hearers  had  shown  to  rush 
after  any  sign  of  empire  that  had  the  tokens  of  external  move- 
ment and  force,  and  the  disappointment  which  they  could  not 
conceal  that  Jesus  should,  with  all  his  wonderful  power,  do 
nothing  except  to  instruct  people  and  to  relieve  the  suflerings 
of  the  unfortunate.  If  this  is  all,  said  they,  if  marvel  and  dis- 
course are  not  leading  on  to  organized  revolt  and  to  victorious 
onset,  what  4s  the  use  of  them  ?  Truth  and  purity  of  motive 
and  self-denying  kindness  may  be  all  very  well,  but  will  they 
dispossess  foreign  armies  and  reinstate  the  Jewish  rulers  ?  Thus 
the  real  excellence  of  the  new  kingdom  was  turned  against  it 
as  a  weakness. 

The  teaching  and  miracles  of  Jesus  were  doing  little  good, 
and  seemed  to  quicken  that  fatal  tendency  toward  pride  and 
self-indulgence  which  had  already  prevented  the  development 
of  moral  sensibility.  It  was  not  personal  but  political  changes 
that  men  wanted.  Neither  John  nor  Jesus  fed  their  insatiable 
ambition,  and  each  in  turn  was  rejected  on  a  mei'e  pretence. 
John  is  a  recluse,  abstinent,  rigorously  severe.  He  is  possessed 
by  the  demon  of  the  wilderness !  Jesus  dwells  among  his  peo- 
ple, adopts  the  social  customs  of  his  times,  disowns  all  pre- 
tentious fasting  and  all  acerb  morality.  He  eats  and  drinks 
like  other  men :  to-day  he  breaks  bread  among  the  poor ;  to- 
morrow some  ostentatious  rich  man  will  have  him  at  his  table  ; 
—  it  makes  no  difference.  A  couch  or  the  hard  jilank  of  a 
ship,  the  banquet  or  the  crust  of  bread,  are  alike  to  him.  But 
this  miiversal  social  sympathy  is  charged  against  him    by  his 

^ ■ i 


a  ^ ^ 

THE  BEGINNING   OF   CONFLICT.  285 

censorious  critics:  He  is  a  dissipated  fellow,  a  companion  of 
grossly  wicked  men!  For  John  ihe  Baptist  came  neUJier  eating 
bread  nor  drinking  wine ;  and  ye  sag,  He  hath  a  devil.  The  Son 
of  3Ian  is  come  eating  and  drinking  ;  and  ye  say,  Behold  a  gluttonous 
man,  and  a  v'inchihher,  a  friend  of  publicans  and  sinners  ! 

To  such  unfriendly  thoughts  Jesus  replies  by  pointing  out  a 
group  of  peevish  children  that  had  gathered  in  the  public  square. 
Their  companions  cry,  "  Let  us  play  funeral."  No,  they  will  not 
play  at  thatj  it  is  too  solemn.  Well,  then,  play  wedding!  No, 
they  do  not  like  pipes  and  dancing !  Nothing  will  suit  them. 
The  severity  of  John  and  the  gentleness  of  Jesus  were  alike 
unpalatable  to  men  Avho  wanted  riches,  power,  and  obsequious 
flatteries.  This  impenetrable  worldliness  appears  to  have  affect- 
ed the  spirits  of  Jesus  in  an  unusual  degree.  He  was  saddened 
that  so  little  of  promise  had  resulted  from  his  labors. 

In  the  full  sovereignty  of  his  nature,  he  called  to  judgment 
the  cities  in  which  he  had  wrought  the  most  striking  miracles  in 
the   greatest   numbers  with  the    least   possible   effects.      "Woe 
unto  thee,  Bethsaida,"  —  it  was  a  soliloquy  probably,  low-voiced, 
and  heard   only  by  his  disciples, —  "  woe  unto  th«e,  Chorazin  !' 
for  if  the  mighty  works  which  were  done  in  you  had  been  done 
in  Tyre  and  Sidon  [heathen  cities],  they  would  have  repented 
long  ago  in  sackcloth  and  ashes."     In  this  solemn  hour,  Caper- 
naum, his  home  after  his  rejection  by  the  people  of  Nazareth, 
rose  before  him  as  guiltiest  of  all.     Nowhere  else  had  he  taught 
so  assiduously,  or   performed    so  many   beneficent  works.      He 
dwelt  there,  and  was  there  well  known.     Yet  in  no  other  place 
was  there  so  little  change  for  good.     «  Thou,  Capernaum,  which 
art  exalted  unto  heaven,  shalt  be  brought  down   to   hell ;  .  .  .  . 
it  shall  be  more  tolerable  for  the  land  of  Sodom,  in   the  day 
of  judgment,  than   for   thee."      Jesus  did  not   undervalue  the 
guilt  of  the  cities  of  the  jjlain.     He  left  bestial  vices  as  odious 
as  the   moral  sense   of  the  world   had   ranked   them.      But  he 
raised    the    estimate    of  the    guilt    of  selfish    and    sordid    sins. 
Sodom    was    not   less,    but  Capernamn   was  more,  guilty  than 
men  judged.     The  sentence  of  Jesus  does  not  change  the  em- 
phasis of  condemnation,  but  its  relative  distribution. 

Throughout  this  scene  of  reproach,  and  the  following  passages 
of  conflict  with   the  cold   and  selfish   relio-ionists,  the  "character 

^ ^ 


a ^ ; Q] 

286  THE   LIFE    OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

of  Jesus  assumes  a  new  appearance.  It  loses  nothing  of  be- 
nevolence, but  it  reveals  how  terrible  benevolence  may  become 
when  arraj'ed  against  evil.  The  guilt  of  sin  is  that  it  destroys 
happmess  in  its  very  sources.  Regarding  the  law  of  right  as 
the  law  of  happiness,  the  violation  of  right  is  the  destruction  of 
happiness.  A  disposition  of  disobedience  is  malign.  It  reaches 
out  against  universal  well-being.  Divine  benevolence,  as  a  part 
of  the  very  exercise  of  kindness,  sternly  resists  every  active 
malign  tendency.  In  a  pure  soul,  indignation  at  evil  is  not  an 
alternative  or  mere  accompaniment  of  benevolence,  but  is  be- 
nevolence itself  acting  for  the  preservation  of  happiness.  It 
seems  impossible  that  one  should  be  good,  and  not  abhor  that 
which  destroys  goodness. 

In  all  the  reproofs  of  Jesus  there  is  an  exaltation  and  calm- 
ness which  renders  them  more  terrible  than  if  they  were  an 
outburst  of  sudden  passion.  It  is  not  angered  ambition,  bat 
repulsed  kindness,  that  speaks.  There  is  sadness  in  the  severity. 
The  very  denunciations  seem  to  mourn. 

After  his  distress  had  given  itself  voice  in  those  severe  Avords, 
he  seems  to  have  let  go  the  trouble,  and  to  have  arisen  in 
prayer  to  the  bo.som  of  his  God.  The  gloom  is  breaking !  He 
sees  an  infinite  wisdom  in  that  love  which  hides  from  the  proud 
and  vain  the  ineffable  tniths  of  religion,  and  which  reveals  them 
to  the  humble  and  the  heart-broken.  The  vision  of  God  brings 
peace  to  him.  He  turns  again  to  the  people,  every  cloud  gone 
from  his  face  and  the  sternness  fi'om  his  woi'ds.  Full  of  pity 
and  of  tenderness,  in  sentences  that  have  in  them  the  charm  of 
music,  he  invites  the  troubled  and  unhappy  around  him  to  that 
rest  of  the  heart  which  will  keep  in  perfect  peace  him  whose 
soul  is  staj'ed  on  God :  — 

Come  unto  me,  all  yc  that  labor  ami  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will 
give  yoxi  rest.  Take  my  yoke  upon  you,  and  learn  of  me;  for  I. 
am  meek  and  lowly  in  heart :  and  ye  shall  find  rest  tmto  your  souls. 
For  my  yoke  is  easy,  and  my  burden  is  light. 

John's  message  of  doubt  and  wavering  came  to  Jesus  while 
he  Avas  in  full  conflict  with  the  emi-ssaries  from  Jerusalem,  who 
were  sowing  distrust,  and  Avho,  as  we  shall  see,  had  even  stirred 
up  his  own  family  connections  against  him.  The  whole  tone 
of  Jesu.s's   reply,   the   progression    of   thought,    is    that  of  one 

^ S 


f-- a 

THE  BEGIXXIXG    OF   CONFLICT.  287 

thoroughly  aroused  and  indignant  at  the  exhibitions  of  moral 
meanness  around  him.  His  words  were  warrior  words.  Though 
in  prison,  saddened,  and  about  to  perish,  John  was  gently  but 
faithfully  rebuked.  "  Blessed  is  he,  whosoever  shall  not  be 
offended  in  me."  If  even  John  was  culpable,  how  much  more 
the  malignant  enemies  around  him  !  Still  more  the  cities  which 
had  been  the  focal  points  of  his  ministration!  Thus  step  by 
step  his  soul  manifests  its  noble  repugnance  to  evil,  till  it  breaks 
forth  in  prayer  before  God,  and  returns,  full  of  pity  and  of  yearn- 
ing, to  beseech  once  more  the  liberty  of  doing  good  to  ungrate- 
ful enemies.  Nothing  can  justify  the  royal  tone  of  Jesus  in 
this  whole  scene  but  the  reality  of  his  Divinity;  That  a  man 
should  make  himself  the  fountain  of  cleansing  influence,  and 
summon  all  his  fellows  to  be  healed  hy  his  spirit,  would  ex- 
hibit an  arrogance  of  pride  which  to  their  minds  could  be  pal- 
liated only  on  the  supposition  of  insanity. 

His  family  connections  do  not  seem  to  have  been  greatly  in 
sympathy  with  Jesus  at  any  time.  We  know  that  at  a  much 
later  period  his  brethren  rejected  his  claims  of  Messiahship.  Of 
course  they  must  have  watched  his  career,  and  listened  to  all 
that  was  said  of  him  by  those  to  whom  they  had  been  ac- 
customed to  look  for  right  opinions  in  matters  of-  religion.  The 
increased  activity  of  Jesus,  the  resolute  front  which  he  opposed 
to  the  constituted  teachers  of  his  people,  the  increasing  oppo- 
sition which  he  stirred  up,  the  visible  effect  of  all  this  upon 
his  own  spirit,  the  loftiness  both  of  carriage  and  of  language 
with  which  he  confronted  his  opponents,  together  with  his  fie- 
quent  retirements  and  his  deep  reveries,  suggested  to  his  friends 
the  notion  of  insanity.  Without  doubt  this  was  at  first  a  hinted 
criticism,  a  shaking  of  the  head  and  a  whispering  of  one  with 
another. 

His  life  must  have  seemed  strange,  if  they  looked  upon  Jesus 
without  faith  in  his  Divine  mission,  or  sjmpathy  with  it,  and 
applied  to  him  such  practical  rules  as  regulated  their  own  con- 
duct. The  intensity  of  his  spirit,  the  apparent  restlessness  which 
compelled  him  to  go  throughout  every  village  and  city,  "  preach- 
ing and  showing  the  glad  tidings  of  the  kingdom  of  God,"  must 
have  seemed  unaccountable.  Then,  his  company  was  extraor- 
dinary.    His  twelve  disciples  were  now  his  constant  attendants. 

^ ^ 


c&- -a 

288  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE    CHRIST. 

Bat  besides  these  a  singular  band  of  women  went  with  liim, 
and  largely  provided  for  his  support.  First  mentioned  is  Mary 
Magdalene,  who,  whatever  doubts  may  rest  upon  her  history 
or  the  origin  of  her  name,  clung  to  Jesus  with  a  fidelity  that 
could  not  be  surpassed,  an  aftection  which  seems  to  have  grown 
more  earnest  and  fearless  with  dangei',  and  which,  during  his 
crucifixion  and  after  his  burial,  places  her  even  before  his  own 
mother  in  intensity  of  self-devotion.  Joanna,  the  wife  of  Herod's 
steward,  was  another;  and  Susanna,  whose  name  only  remains 
to  us,  was  also  conspicuous.  But  it  is  said  by  Luke  that  there 
were  "many  others."  He  also  states  that  "they  ministei'ed  to 
him  of  their  substance."  This  was  an  extraordinary  procession 
for  a  teacher  to  make.  His  kindred  felt  that  they  had  a  right 
to  interfere,  and  it  was  not  long  before  they  had  the  oppor- 
tunity. Indeed,  there  seem  to  have  been  two  separate  efibrts 
to  withdraw  him  to  the  privacy  of  his  home,  —  or,  rather,  two 
stages  of  the  one  search  and  attempted  interference.  On  one 
occasion  the  enthusiasm  of  the  people  rose  to  an  imcontrollable 
height.  Jesus  appears  to  have  been  utterly  swallowed  up  by 
the  crowd.  He  and  his  disciples  "  could  not  so  much  as  eat 
bread."  Then  it  was  that  his  friends,  when  the}'  heard  of  it, 
"  went  out  to  lay  hands  upon  him ;  for  they  said,  He  is  beside 
himself" 

But  the  work  went  on.  The  Phai'isees  beheld  his  growing 
power  with  the  people,  especially  after  his  mastery  of  a  case 
of  demoniacal  possession  of  a  peculiarly  malignant  and  obstinate 
character.  The  easy  restoration  of  the  victim  filled  the  multi- 
tude, even  though  they  had  almost  grown  familiar  with  his 
miracles  of  mercy,  with  Avondcr  and  amazement.  They  cried 
out  in  spontaneous  enthusiasm,  "Is  not  this  the  son  of  David?" 
By  that  title  was  the  long-desired  Messiah  fomiliarly  known. 
This  homage  of  the  people  stirred  the  Scribes.  Taking  hint 
from  the  impression  of  his  friends  that  he  was  insane,  they 
added  to  the  charge  that  it  was  an  insanity  of  demoniacal 
possession !  That  he  cast  out  demons  could  not  be  denied  ; 
but  they  said  that  did  not  argue  his  Divinity,  for  he  was  him- 
self a  dupe  or  an  accomplice,  working  under  the  power  con- 
fei-red  by  Satan  ;  in  short,  a  magician,  a  necromancer,  one  who 
had  made  a  league  with  the  devil ! 


t&- 


-^ 


^ — ^ 

THE  BEGINNING    OF   CONFLICT.  289 

The  emissaries  from  Jerusalem  and  their  confederates  in  Gal- 
ilee were  blind  to  all  the  excellences  of  Jesus.  If  he  was  to 
thrive  outside  of  their  party,  and  raise  up  an  influence  antago- 
nistic to  it,  then,  the  better  he  was,  the  more  dangerous  to  them. 
How  unscrupulous  and  malignant  their  conversation  became  is 
revealed  by  the  epithets  employed  :  he  was  a  drunkard ;  he  was 
a  glutton  ;  he  was  a  companion  of  knaves  and  courtesans  ;  he 
was  a  sabbath-breaker,  a  blasphemer,  a  charlatan,  a  necroman- 
cer, an  unclean  fellow.  (Mark  iii.  30.)  His  power  could  not 
be  gainsaid  ;  but  its  moral  significance  might  be  blurred,  nay, 
it  might  be  made  to  witness  against  him,  if  they  could  per- 
suade the  people  that  the  devil  sent  him  among  them,  and 
that  under  the  guise  of  kindness  he  was  really  weaving  infer- 
nal snares  for  their  easy  credulity! 

The  rejily  of  Jesus  to  this  last  aspersion  was  conclusive,  if 
judged  from  their  point  of  view.  "You  believe  that  Satan 
is  carrying  forward  his  work  by  me.  Would  he  begin,  then,  by 
acting  against  himself?  Will  Beelzebub  cast  out  Beelzebub? 
Satan  fight  Satan  ?  Is  not  this  a  house  divided  against  itself, 
and  sure  to  fall?  But  why  charge  me  with  acting  from  infer- 
nal power,  when  you  believe  that  evil  spirits  are  cast  out  by 
3'our  own  disciples  and  by  lawful  methods  ?  When  your  pupils 
employ  the  exorcisms  which  you  prescribe,  and  men  are  re- 
lieved, do  you  admit  that  it  was  the  devil  that  wrought  with 
them?  On  the  contrar}-,  you  believe  it  to  be  a  Divine  power 
that  helps  your  children.  Their  example  condemns  your  argu- 
ments against  me." 

If  the  carefulness  of  the  Lord's  reply  seems  strange,  it  is  only 
because  the  exceedmg  gravity  and  dangerousness  of  this  attack 
upon  him  is  not  appreciated.  Beelzebub  was  a  heathen  god, 
and  to  charge  Jesus  with  acting  as  his  emissary  was  to  suggest 
the  most  insidious  form  of  idolatry.  To  the  common  people 
Jesus  was  the  very  model  of  a  Jew.  He  revived  and  repre- 
sented the  heroic  national  character.  His  whole  career  appealed 
to  the  patriotic  element.  His  use  of  their  Scriptures,  his  teach- 
ing in  their  synagogues,  his  conformity  to  all  Jewish  rites  and 
usages  in  worship,  the  historical  basis  of  his  teachings,  and  the 
very  attempt  to  bring  back  the  old  Jewish  life  by  reforming 
the  abuses  of  the  school  of  the  Pharisee,  all  gave  to  him  a  hioh 


[& 


-a 


290 


THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE    CHRIST. 


repute  with  the  common  people  as  a  representative  national 
man  with  the  stamp  of  the  old  prophets. 

If  his  enemies  could  destroy  this  impression,  and  excite  a 
suspicion  that,  after  all,  he  was  in  sympathy  with  foreign  nations 
and  was  really  an  emissary  of  an  idolatrous  system,  they  would 
easily  destroy  his  influence.  For  on  no  other  point  was  the 
Jewish  mind  so  inflammable  as  against  idolatrous  foreign  influ- 
ences. Beelzebub  was  the  chief  of  foreign  heathen  deities. 
To  charge  Jesus  with  acting  under  his  inspiration  was  an  appeal 
to  the  national  fanaticism.  The  vigor  of  Christ's  reply  mani- 
fests his  sense  of  the  danger  of  such  an  imputation,  and 
explains  also  the  solemn  and  judicial  severity  with  which  he 
immediately  turned  upon  his  assailants.  For  the  lines  were 
drawn.  All  hope  of  accommodation  was  past.  Between  him 
and  the  Pharisees  the  gulf  had  been  opened  that  could  never  Ije 
closed.  Hitherto  he  had  entered  into  controversy  with  them 
as  a  Rabbi  would  dispute  with  any  one  in  his  school  who  dis- 
sented from  his  teaching.  In  his  Sermon  on  the  Mount  he 
had  clearly  taken  ground  against  the  whole  ethics  and  religious 
philosophy  of  this  school.  But  now  the  hour  had  come  when 
he  distinctly  assailed  them  as  a  corrupt  partv.  There  could 
hQ  no  more  friendliness  between  them.  No  one  could  be  on 
both  sides,  or  be  indiflerent.  All  must  choose.  Pointing  to  his 
antagonists,  he  declared,  "  He  that  is  not  with  me  is  against  me. 
He  that  gathercth  not  with  me  scattereth  abroad."  He  now 
asserts  his  Divinity  as  he  had  never  done  before,  not  by  assum- 
ing to  himself  Divine  titles,  but  by  identifying  their  resistance 
to  him  as  a  direct  and  conscious  resistance  to  the  Holy  Ghost. 

The  scene  at  this  point  is  extraordinary.  Jesus  had  hitherto 
stood  upon  the  defensive.  But  there  was  something  in  the 
spirit  of  his  antagonists  which  roused  in  him  the  latent  royalty 
to  a  most  august  disclosure.  He  no  longer  explains  or  defends. 
He  brings  home  to  the  conspiring  Pharisees  the  terrible  charge 
of  blasphemy.  He  expressly  excludes  the  idea  that  this  was 
done  simply  because  they  had  opposed  him.  Wiosoever  spcak- 
eth  a  word  agalmt  the  Son  of  Man,  it  shall  lie  forgiven  him.  Jesus 
accepted  his  place  among  men,  and  did  not  demand  any  ex- 
emption from  the  criticisms  and  arguments  with  which  men 
contested    all    the    philosophies    or    religious   teachings    of   the 


fr 


-^ 


^ -a 

THE  BEGIXNIXG    OF   CONFLICT.  291 

Rabbis.  He  did  not  hold  his  antagonists  guilty  because  they  had 
opposed  his  claims  or  his  doctrines.  It  was  their  own  highest 
nature,  in  its  state  of  Divine  illumination,  that  they  had  delib- 
erately violated.  His  works  and  his  expositions  had  not  fliiled  ; 
there  was  among  these  men  an  hour  of  full  conviction  that  this 
work  and  this  doctrine  was  of  God.  But  pride  and  malign  self- 
ishness rose  up  against  the  light.  For  the  sake  of  sinister  inter- 
ests, they  dishonored  the  noblest  intuitions  of  their  souls. 

There  are  hours  in  which  men  are  lifted  out  of  the  dominion 
of  sensuous  fact,  and  come  up  into  the  full  blaze  of  spiritual 
truths.  They  are  consciously  in  the  very  presence  of  God. 
The  Divine  influence  is  so  personal  and  pervasive,  that  in  their 
own  consciousness  they  think,  feel,  and  will,  as  it  were,  flice  to 
flice  with  God.  These  are  the  hours  of  the  soul's  sovereignty, 
and  its  choices  are  final,  since  they  are  made  when  every  ad- 
vantage is  concentrated  upon  them.  If  they  are  right,  they  are 
eternally  right ;  if  wrong,  they  are  wrong  forever. 

In  such  a  supreme  mood  the  Pharisees  had  not  only  dishon- 
ored their  own  luminous  convictions  of  the  truth,  but,  trans- 
ported with  the  anger  of  mortified  vanity,  had  poured  contempt 
and  ridicule  upon  them.  The  sentence  of  Mark  is  very  signifi- 
cant,—  '"Because  they  said,  He  hath  an  unclean  sj^irit."  What 
unclean  spirit  was  meant,  is  shown  by  Matthew  :  "  This  fellow 
doth  not  cast  out  devils  but  by  Beelzebub."  Beelzebub  was  to 
the  Jews  the  heathen  god  of  nastiness,  god  of  the  dunghill,  of 
universal  excrement !  ^  The  vulgarity  of  the  abuse  must  be  left 
to  the  imagination. 

'  See  Smith's  Bible  Dictionary  (American  edition,  Hurd  and  Houghton),  Art.  "  Beel- 
zebiil." 

Moreover,  on  this  point  Pro'essor  Conant  writes  :  "  To  the  heathen  themselves  Beel- 
zebub was  not  the  'god  of  nasiiness,'  but  a  very  respectable  sort  of  a  divinity,  with  an 
honorable  vocation,  according  to  their  notions. 

'^  Beelzeliub  {ph'^]  Si'3),  with  final  ft,  occurs  only  once,  in  2  Kings  i.  2,  as  a  god  of 
the  Philistines  at  Ekron,  to  whom  Ahaziah  sent  messengers  to  inquire  whether  he  should 
recover  from  his  disease.     He  was  then,  it  seems,  a  god  of  good  repute  even  in  Israel. 

•'  From  the  etymology,  Gesenius  explains  the  name  as  'jly-BnaU  fly-destroyer,  like 
the  Zciif  'Atto^uios  of  Eiis,  ....  and  the  Myia(]rus  dens  of  the  Romans.'  Fiirst,  under 
:o;.  compares  the  '  epithets  of  Hercules,  Ittoktovos  (vermin-killer)  and  Kopvonlav  (locust- 
killer).' 

"  The  Jews,  with  their  propensity  to  sarcastic  punning,  pronounced  the  name  Beehchul 
(S31  '^rs),  'god  of  the  dunghill,'  dunghill-god. 

"  There  can  be  no  reasonable  doubt  that  the  view  you  give  in  the  text  is  the  true  one." 


292  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

Aflairs  had  reached  a  crisis.  It  is  well,  therefore,  at  this  point, 
to  look  somewhat  closely  into  the  precise  relations  subsisting 
between  the  party  of  the  Temple,  the  common  j^eople,  and 
Jesus. 

The  Scribes  and  Pharisees  were  neither  better  nor  worse  than 
men  usually  are  Avho  hold  power  in  their  hands,  and  are  deter- 
mined, at  all  hazards,  to  maintain  it.  If  Jesus  could  have  been 
made  to  work  imder  their  general  direction,  and  so  to  contribute 
to  the  staljility  of  the  Temple  influence,  they  would  have  suf- 
fered him  to  utter  almost  any  sentiment,  and  to  execute  rig- 
orous popular  reformations.  Every  word  and  every  act  was 
scrutinized  from  one  jioint  of  view,  —  its  relations  to  the  influ- 
ence of  the  dominant  school. 

In  the  progressive  conflict  with  Jesus,  which  ended  with  his 
death,  the  Scribes  acted  Avithin  the  familiar  sphere  of  ordinary 
political  immorality.  They  were  not  monsters,  but  simply  un- 
scrupulous politicians.  At  first  they  contented  themselves  -with 
observing  Jesus,  and  would  evidently  have  been  willing  to  con- 
ciliate, had  a  chance  been  given  them.  They  then  followed 
him,  watching  for  some  mistake  which  would  bring  down  on 
him  the  grasp  of  a  jealous  foreign  government.  This  was  by 
fiir  the  most  politic  method  of  dealing  Avith  him.  A  dangerous 
man  Avould  thus  be  removed  by  an  odious  foreign  despotism, 
Avithont  prejudice  to  the  JeAvish  rulers.  But  Jesus  Avas  fully 
conscious  of  this  peril.  So  cautious  Avas  he  in  discourse,  that 
from  the  records  of  his  teaching  one  Avould  scarcely  knoAv  that 
there  Avas  an  intrusive  government  in  Palestine.  He  used  his 
authority  to  keep  doAvn  popular  excitement ;  and  AAhen  the  en- 
thusiasm could  not  be  controlled,  he  frequently  AvithdrcAv  from 
sight,  and  sometimes  hid  himself  absolutely.  The  Avisdom  of 
his  course  AA'as  justified.  The  Roman  oflicials,  after  a  A\diile,  seem 
to  have  dismissed  his  movements  from  their  thoughts ;  and  even 
at  the  crisis  of  his  death  they  appear  to  have  cared  but  little 
for  the  matter,  and  to  have  been  pushed  on  by  the  i-esolute 
fury  of  the  JcAvish  leaders. 

If  the  Temple  party  could  not  check  the  career  of  Jesus  by 
direct  political  interference,  the  next  obAdous  step  of  policy 
AA'Ould  be  to  embroil  him  Avith  his  OAvn  countrymen.  This  Avould 
seem  not  difficult.     The  JcAvish  people   Avere   inordinately  sen- 

^ ^ 


THE  BEGINNING    OF   CONFLICT.  293 

sitive  to  sectarian  and  national  prejudices.  It  seemed  likely 
that  a  bold  reformer  like  Jesus  would  first  or  last  strike  some 
blow  that  would  rouse  up  the  whole  wrath  of  a  bigoted  people, 
and  that  he  would  be  sacrificed  in  some  popular  tumult.  This 
line  of  policy  was  skilfully  followed  by  them.  It  was  not  Avise 
to  shock  the  enthusiasm  of  the  people,  or  to  stand  cold  and 
unmoved  amid  so  much  popular  feeling.  It  was  better  to  oo 
with  the  crowd  as  friends,  but  as  conservative  friends.  They 
listened,  but  in  a  gentle  and  respectful  way  sought  to  entangle 
him  in  his  teachings.  The  ill  success  of  this  course  little  by 
little  increased  their  zeal.  But  they  were  politic.  They  could 
not  break  with  Jesus  so  long  as  the  mass  of  the  people  were 
with  him.  They  therefore  still  maintained  outward  amicable 
relations,  but  watched  and  waited,  whispering,  suggesting,  criti- 
cising; —  yet  all  in  vain.  The  current  would  not  be  turned  by 
these  puffs  of  wind  that  ran  across  its  surface. 

Jesus  seems  to  have  been  perfectly  aware  of  all  this,  and 
of  the  dangers  which  threatened.  His  tranquil  avoidance  of 
their  snares  disclosed  how  skilful  may  be  the  highest  moi-al 
endowments.  It  was  difficult  to  oppose  the  whole  religious 
teaching  of  his  times  without  appearing  to  set  aside  the  Jew- 
ish faith,  and  bringing  upon  himself  the  charge  of  infidelity, 

always  a  focile  and  effective  weapon.  It  was  difficult  to  resist 
the  authority  of  the  representative  men  of  his  nation,  without 
violating  the  fanatical  sense  of  patriotism  among  the  people. 
The  consciousness  of  such  peril  would  render  a  weak  nature 
cautious,  would  limit  his  sphere  of  remark,  and  enfeeble  his 
criticisms  of  evil.  Nothing  is  more  striking  than  the  attitude 
of  Jesus  in  the  face  of  this  danger.  His  teachings  did  not  flag. 
His  words  became  more  powerful.  The  sphere  of  topics  every 
day  enlarged.  Like  a  skilful  surgeon,  confident  of  his  hand,  he 
plunged  the  probe  down,  amid  nerves  and  arteries,  with  un- 
failing and  unsparing  fidelity.  At  times  his  adversaries  could 
not  forbear  admiration  .of  his  tact  and  skill.  He  never  struck 
wrong,  nor  ever  missed  a  stroke.  They  beheld  him  every  day 
less  in  peril  of  the  court,  less  likely  to  lose  his  hold  upon  the 
common  people,  and  more  clearly  endangering  their  own  ''  name 
and  place." 

It  was  at  this  point  of  affiiirs  that  the  cry  was  first  heard.  Is 


a- ^ 

294  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE  CHRIST. 

not  this  the  son  of  David?  By  that  phrase  was  meant  Messiah- 
ship !  The  spark  had  fallen.  The  fire  was  kindled.-  The  Scribes 
seemed  thrown  off  their  guard  by  the  extremity  of  danger. 
Then  it  was,  as  Ave  have  seen,  that  they  blindly  charged  him 
with  Ijeing  a  minion  of  infernal  influences,  the  evil  victim  of 
a  foreign  god  of  filthy  and  detestable  attributes.  And  it  was 
to  this  open  declaration  of  war  that  Jesus  op2)osed  as  openly 
the  terrific  denunciations  which  consigned  them  to  a  doom  not 
to  l)e  reversed  in  this  world  nor  in  the  world  to  come. 

The  Scribes  at  once  saw  their  blunder.  They  had  not  car- 
ried the  people  with  them.  They  had  aroused  in  Jesus  a  spirit 
of  sovereignty  before  which  they  quailed.  They  had  thrown 
the  javelin,  but  it  had  mi.ssed,  and  they  stood  disarmed. 

They  then  attempted  to  recover  their  position.  It  is  quite 
likely  that  the  Scribes,  who  had  led  the  onset,  gave  place  to 
others,  who  put  on  a  face  of  kindness  as  a  mask  to  their  real 
feelings.  Tliev  came  to  him  with  an  affectation  of  rea.sonable- 
ness  and  of  devotion :  —  Master,  we  wish  that  we  might  only 
see  a  sign  from  thee.  He  was  not  to  be  deceived  by  this  sudden 
complaisance.  With  even  increasing  elevation  of  spirit  and  of 
manner  he  denounced  them  a^  an  ''evil  and  adulterous  gener- 
ation." No  sign  should  be  wrought  for  their  purposes.  But 
a  sign  they  should  have.  What  Jonah  was  to  Nineveh,  that 
should  the  Son  of  Man  be  to  Jerusalem.  So  far  from  soften- 
ing his  words  or  al)ating  his  authority  he  takes  a  bolder  step, 
and  declares  himself  superior  to  Jonah,  an  eminent  prophet,  and 
to  Solomon,  the  mo.st  renowned  philosopher  and  the  most  Ijril- 
liant  king  of  tlio  Hebrew  race.  That  such  arrogation  of  rank 
did  not  offend  the  people  is  a  testimony  to  the  hold  which 
Jesus  had  gained  upon  their  veneration. 

This  plausible  attempt  of  the  Pharisees  to  return  to  amicable 
relations  with  him  did  not  for  a  moment  impose  upon  Jesus. 
He  signified  his  judgment  of  the  value  of  their  mood  by  a 
parable,  which,  however,  did  not  expend  its  force  ujjon  them, 
but,  after  the  method  of  the  prophecies,  had  a  kind  of  moral 
ricochet  and  struck  successive  periods.  Their  pretended  reforma- 
tions were  but  a  getting  ready  for  renewed  wickedness. 

Wticn  the  vncleun  spirit  is  (/one  out  of  a  man,  he  tvalheth  through 
dry  places,  seeking  red,  and  fndeth  none.      Then  he  saiih,  I  will  return 

^ ^ 


^ =--^ 

THE  BEGINNING    OF   CONFLICT.  295 

into  my  house  from  whence  I  came  out;  ami  when  he  is  come,  he  findefh 
it  empty,  stoept,  and  garnished.  Then  goeth  he,  and  tahcth  with  himsctf 
seven  other  spirits  more  wiched  than  himself,  and  they  enter  in  and 
dwell  there:  and  the  last  state  of  that  man  is  tvorse  than  the  first.  Even 
so  shcdl  it  be  also  unto  this  wicked  generation. 

In  his  adversaries,  the  discourses  of  Jesus  produced   anger, 
and  at  times  rage.     The   people  generally  felt  admiration  and 
enthusiasm  for  them,  some  being  capable  of  appreciating  their 
spu-itual  excellence  and  enteriug  profoundly  into  sympathy  with 
hnn.     Thus,  while  he  was  unfolding  the  truth,  a  woman  'in  the 
crowd,  quite  borne  away  by  the  admirableness  of  his  teachino-. 
cried  out  with  a  true  mother's  feeling,  «  Blessed  is  the  womb 
that  bare  thee,  and  the  paps  which  thou  hast  sucked ! "     This 
was  the  very  pride  of  motherhood  breaking  into  rapture  of  wor- 
ship.     It  is  not   likely  that  she  knew  Mary.     There  certainly 
is  no  unconscious  blessing  pronounced  upon  the  Virgin  Mother- 
it  was  upon   Christ  that  her  heart  rested.     She  struck   an  un- 
imagined  chord  in  the  heart  of  Jesus.     There  is  sadness  in  his 
reply,   Yea,  rather,  blessed  are  they  thd  hear  the  word  of  God,  and 
keep  it.     And  reason  there  was  for  this  sadness.      At  that  'very 
moment  his  mother,  with  other  members  of  the  family,  were 
hovering  on  the  outskirts  of  the  excessive  crowd,  seeking  him 
By  Mark  (iii.    20,   21,   31-35)   we   see  what  her  errand  was 
Driven  by  maternal  solicitude,  she   had  become  more  anxious 
for  his  personal  safety  than  for  the  development  of  the  kino- 
dom  of  heaven.     Her  love  for  him  as  her  own  son  was  stronger 
than  her  love  for  hhn  as  the  Son  of  God.     She  might  not  kave 
believed  that  he  was  "beside  himself";  she  might  naturallv  have 
felt  that  by  excessive  zeal  he  was  putting  his  life  in  perif    Fol- 
lowing m  the  wake  of  the  crowd,  she  would  gather  up  into  her 
anxious   heart  all    the  angry   speeches    and    significant  threats 
of  his  enemies.     AVhy  should  we  imagine  that  Marv  was  made 
perfect  without  suffering,  without  mistakes,  without"^  that  train- 
ing which   every  one  of  the  disciples  passed  through,  and  with- 
out need  of  those   tender  rebukes  from  the    Master  which  all 
experienced?     If  even  the  unflinching  and  sturdy  John  faltered 
can  we  wonder  that  a  mother  should   dread  the   storm  which 
she  saw  gathering  around  her  beloved  son? 

It  was  while  the  cry  of  sympathy  from  a  nameless  woman  in 


a- ■ ^ 

206  TJIi:  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

the  crowd  was  in  his  ear,  that  Avord  was  brought  to  Jesus, 
"  Behold  thy  mother  and  thy  brethren  stand  without,  desiring 
to  speak  with  thee."  This  is  the  sequel  of  that  previous  state- 
ment, "  When  his  friends  (kinsmen)  heard  of  it,  they  went  out 
to  lay  hold  of  him ;  for  they  said.  He  is  beside  himself." 

Were  it  not  for  this  history,  it  would  be  hard  to  redeem  the 
reply  of  Jesus  to  the  messenger  of  his  mother  from  the  im- 
putation of  severity,  bordering  on  harshness.  Who  is  m>/  mother  ^ 
and  who  are  mij  brethren  ?  Is  this  the  language  of  a  child's  love, 
in  whose  ear  his  mother's  name  is  music  ?  Is  this  the  honored 
reception,  before  all  the  people,  which  a  mother  had  a  right  to 
expect  from  such  a  .''on  ? 

Then  it  was  that  he  seems  to  have  drawn  himself  up  and 
looked  round  upon  the  crowd  with  an  eye  of  lo've  veiled  by 
sorrow.  There  must  have  been  something  striking  in  his  man- 
ner of  speaking,  that  should  lead  the  Evangelists  always  to 
describe  his  personal  appearance  in  that  act.  They  were  not 
anatomists,  nor  close  students  of  details ;  they  mentioned  that 
which  struck  them  forcibly.  It  was  not  a  glance,  a  Hash,  but  a 
long  and  piercing  gaze  :  "  he  looked  round  about  on  them  which 
sat  about  him " ;  and  then,  stretching  forth  his  hand  toward 
his  disciples,  he  said,  "  Behold  my  mother  and  my  brethren ! 
Whosoever  shall  do  the  will  of  my  Father  Avhich  is  in  heaven, 
the  same  is  my  brother,  and  my  sister,  and  my  mother ! "  ^ 

While  this  was  unquestional)ly  a  rebuke  to  his  mother  and 
brethi'en  for  want  of  moral  sympathy  with  him,  it  presents  an 
admirable  illustration  of  the  way  in  which  Jesus  looked  upon 
all  the  social  relationships  of  life.  As  much  in  domestic  as  in 
religious  matters  the    exterior  is  but  the  veil,   the   interior  is 

'  President  Woolsey,  of  Yale  College,  holds  the  following  l.inguage  :  — 
'•  However  we  explain  Clary's  participation  in  the  design  of  her  kinsmen,  she  is  in- 
cluded in  what  is  a  virtual  censure  on  the  part  of  our  Lord.  He  neitlier  goes  out  to 
meet  her  and  her  companions,  nor  admits  theui  into  his  presence.  He  exclaims  that  his 
nearest  of  kin  are  the  children  of  God,  and  asks,  '  ^Vho  is  my  mother  and  my  brethren  '! ' 
It  is  thus  remarkable  that  in  the  only  two  instances,  untd  the  crucifixion,  where  JIary 
fig  ires  in  the  Gospel,  —  the  marriage  at  Cana  and  the  passage  before  us,  —  she  appears 
in  order  to  be  reproved  by  the  Saviour,  and  to  be  placed,  as  far  as  the  mere  niat>-rnal 
relation  is  concerned,  below  obedient  servants  of  God.  Tliese  passages  must  be  regarded 
as  protests  laid  up  in  store  against  the  healhenisb  eminence  whiuh  the  Roman  Church 
assigns  to  Mary,  and  especially  against  that  newly  established  dogma,  of  her  being  with- 
out sin  from  her  birth,  which  they  so  signally  contradict."  —  lletiyion  of  the  Present  and 
of  the  Future,  ip.  id.     New  York  :  Charles  Scribner  &  Co.     1871. 


^ 


a -a 

THE  BEGINNING    OF   CONFLICT.  297 

the  substance  and  reality.  As  manhood  is  not  made  np  by  the 
members  of  the  body,  but  by  the  soul,  so  relationship  is  not 
simply  by  blood,  but  by  affinities  of  character.  The  household 
which  is  grouped  around  natural  parents,  with  all  its  blessed- 
ness, does  not  limit  within  itself  one's  real  kindred.  All  that 
are  good  belong  to  each  other.  All,  in  every  nation,  who  call 
God  Father,  have  a  right  to  call  each  other  brother,  sister, 
mother '  Thus  around  the  visible  home  there  extends  an  in- 
visible household  of  the  heart,  and  men  of  faith  and  aspiration 
are  rich  in  noble  relationships. 

This  scene  between  Jesus  and  his  mother  was  a  mere  episode 
in  the  sharp  conflict  which,  under  one  form  and  another,  was 
going  on  between  Jesus  and  the  emissaries  from  the  Temple, 
together  with  their  confederates  in  the  provinces.  But  it  was 
not  all  an  open  conflict.  It  would  seem  as  if,  while  some  plied 
him  with  opposition,  others  tried  the  arts  of  kindness,  and  the 
seductions  of  hospitality.  For  these  invitations  which  brought 
him  to  feasts  in  the  houses  of  distinguished  Pharisees,  as  the 
whole  carriage  of  Jesus  showed,  were  not  alwaj's  acts  of  simple 
kindness.  No  doubt  they  were  inspired  to  some  extent  by  curi- 
osity, mingled  with  vanity  at  having  possession  of  one  who  was 
stirring  the  whole  community.  But  they  evidently  had  in  them 
also  an  element  of  seduction.  He  might  be  flattered  by  atten- 
tions. He  might  be  softened  by  social  blandishments.  He  might, 
in  the  confidence  of  honorable  hospitality,  be  thrown  off  his 
guard  and  led  to  incautious  speeches,  by  which  afterwards  he 
might  be  entangled. 

Soon  after  this  interview  with  his  mother,  a  Pharisee  urged 
him  to  dine.  No  sooner  had  they  sat  down  than  the  latent 
design  of  this  hospitality  began  to  appear.  Jesus  had  neglected 
to  wash  his  hands  officially,  after  the  custom  of  the  strict  among 
the  Jews,  and  he  was  at  once  questioned  about  it.  It  seems  that 
there  was  present  a  large  company  of  lawyers  and  doctors  of 
the  law,  and  that  all  were  sharpened  for  conflict,  and  this  will 
sufficiently  account  for  the  character  of  the  most  extraordinary 
after-dinner  speech  that  was  ever  recorded.  Jesus  was  not  for 
a  moment  deceived  by  their  pretensions  and  formal  courtesies. 
He  knew  what  their  politeness  meant.  He  rejilied  to  the  inward 
reality,    and  not   to    the    outward  seeming.      It   was   a  fearful 

[&- -^ 


cs- a 

298  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

analysis  and  exposure  of  the  hollow-heartedness  of  the  men 
who  were  seeking  his  downfall. 

The  manner  of  this  speech  seems  to  have  been  thus :  One 
after  another  would  question  him,  and  upon  his  replies  still 
other  criticisms  would  be  made,  followed  again  by  taunts  and 
contemptuous  questions.  Luke  gives  us  an  insight  into  the 
method  and  .»;pirit  of  this  remarkable  dialogue :  "  As  he  said 
these  things  unto  them,  the  Scribes  and  the  Pharisees  began  to 
urge  him  vehementl}^  and  to  provoke  him  to  speak  of  many 
things ;  laying  wait  for  him,  and  seeking  to  catch  something 
out  of  his  mouth,  that  they  might  accuse  him."  The  speech  as 
given  in  the  text  may  be  regarded  as  a  condensed  record  of 
the  substance  of  his  replies,  the  interpolated  questions  and  dis- 
putatious passages  being  left  out.  It  is  this  interlocutory  char- 
acter of  the  Lord's  discourses,  both  here  and  elsewhere,  that 
must  supply  us  with  a  clew  to  the  succession  of  topics,  which 
otherwise  will  seem  forced. 

And  the  Lord  said  unto  hhn,  Now  do  ye  Phamees  make  clean  the 
outside  of  the  cup  and  the  platter ;  hd  your  inward  part  is  full  of 
raveniny  and  wic/cedncss.  i'e  fools,  did  not  he  that  made  that  tvhieh 
is  u'itJiont  make  that  icMch  is  within  also  ?  But  rather  give  alms  of 
such  things  as  ye  have;  and,  behold,  all  things  are  clean  unto  yon. 
But  woe  unto  yon,  Pharisees !  for  ye  tithe  mint  and  rue  and  all 
manner  of  herbs,  and  pass  over  judgment  and  the  love  of  God :  these 
ougJd  ye  to  have  done,  and  not  to  leave  the  other  undone.  Woe  unto 
you,  Pharisees  !  for  ye  love  the  uppermost  seats  in  the  synagogues,  and 
greetings  in  the  markets.  Woe  unto  you.  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypo- 
crites !  for  ye  are  as  graves  ichich  appear  not,  and  the  men  that  walk 
over  them  are  not  aware  of  them.  Then  answered  one  of  the  lawyers, 
and  said  unto  him,  3faster,  thus  saying  tJmu  reprouchest  us  also.  And 
he  said,  Woe  unto  you  also,  ye  lawyers !  for  ye  lade  men  tvilh  burdens 
grievous  to  he  borne,  and  ye  yourselves  touch  not  the  burdens  iviih  one 
of  your  fingers.  Woe  unto  you !  for  ye  build  the  sepulchres  of  the 
prophets,  and  your  fatJiers  killed  them.  Truly  ye  bear  tvitness  that  ye 
allow  the  deeds  of  your  fathers  :  for  tliey  indeed  killed  them,  and  ye  build 
tlicir  sepidchres.  Tlierefore  also  said  the  wisdom  of  God,  I  tvill  send 
them  propliets  and  apostles,  and  some  of  them  they  s/udl  slay  and  jiersc- 
cxde :  that  the  blood  of  all  the  prophets,  ivJiich  was  shed  from  the  foun- 
dation of  the  world,  may  be  required  of  tlus  generation,  from  the  blood 

^ ^ 


[fi -fl: 

THE  BEGINNING    OF   CONFLICT.  299 

of  Abel  unto  the  blood  of  Zucharias,  ivhich  perhhed  between  the  altar 
and  the  temple :  verilij  I  say  imto  yvii,  It  shall  be  required  of  this 
fjeneraiion.  Woe  nnto  you,  lauyers  !  for  ye  hare  tul'en  away  the  Jcey 
of  hwwledge :  ye  entered  not  in  yourselves,  and  them  that  tvere  entering 
in  ye  hindered. 

The  kindled  flame  was  to  be  nourished  by  new  fuel  every 
day.  The  courage  and  boldness  of  Jesus  were  equalled  only 
by  the  bitterness  and  cunning  of  the  Scribes.  He  knew  the 
issue.  "I  am  come  to  send  fire  on  the  earth,  and  what  will  I, 
if  it  be  already  kindled?" 


h^ 


■ff 


lEr a 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

AROUND   THE   SEA   OF   GALILEE. 

THE  discourses  of  Jesus  grew  deeper  and  richer  from  the 
beginning  of  his  ministry  to  the  end.  But  the  transitions 
■were  never  formal  or  abrupt.  Nor  can  we  anywhere  lay  our 
finger  upon  a  precise  moment  or  occasion  when  the  deepening 
or  widening  took  place.  His  teaching  was  like  the  ilow  of  a 
river,  whose  depth  and  breadth  continually  increase,  but  no- 
where suddenly.  From  the  first  he  had  preached  the  Jcingdom  of 
heaven,  but  at  this  time  he  seems  to  have  made  that  theme  the 
special  subject  of  discourse.  Indeed,  just  before  he  sent  out 
his  twelve  disciples  to  teach,  there  was  a  crisis  in  his  ministry 
and  a  change  in  his  style  which  proceeded  from  profound  rea- 
sons that  deserve  careful  consideration. 

Whatever  spiritual  benefit  had  been  derived  by  single  persons 
from  his  ministry,  it  was  plain  that  in  general  his  teaching  had 
fallen  only  upon  the  outward  ear,  and  that  his  beneficent  works 
had  stirred  up  the  worldly  side  of  men  more  than  the  spirit- 
ual. They  were  glad  to  have  their  sicknesses  healed,  to  know 
that  the  kingdom  of  heaven  (interpreted  according  to  Jewish 
expectations)  was  advancing.  His  family  friends  were  plying 
him  with  prudential  considerations.  His  adversaiies  were  organ- 
izing a  powerful,  though  as  yet  cautious  and  crafty,  opposition. 
He  stood  in  an  excited  circle  of  worldly  men ;  and  whether  they 
were  for  him  or  against  him,  they  were  for  the  most  part  seek- 
ing a  material  and  secular  interest.  It  was  important  that  he 
should,  if  possible,  break  through  this  carnal  view,  and  kindle 
in  their  minds  some  idea  of  that  spiritual  kingdom  which  he 
sought  to  establish. 

On  no  other  subject  did  he  concentrate  so  many  parables  as 
upon  this.  Eight  of  them  in  succession,  and  apparently  at 
about  the  same   time,  evince  his  eai'nestness,  and  his  estimate 

^ ^ 


^ ^ a 

AROUND    THE  SEA    OF   GALILEE.  301 

of  the  importance  of  the  topic.  The  Sower,  the  Tares,  the 
Growth  of  Seed,  the  Grain  of  Mustard-seed,  the  Leaven,  the 
Treasure-field,  the  Pearl,  the  Net,  —  each  one  of  these  ex- 
pounded some  view  of  his  kingdom.  In  reading  them,  one  is 
struck  Avith  the  wholly  spiritual  and  unworldly  character  of  that 
kingdom.  There  is  no  intimation  of  a  society  or  of  organiza- 
tion. 

These  parables  are  evidently  the  fragments  of  discourse.  The 
disciples  remembered  and  recorded  them  as  brief  and  strikino- 
pictures;  but  it  is  not  likely  that  Jesus  put  them  forth  one 
after  the  other,  without  any  filling  up  or  exposition.  We  know, 
in  regard  to  some,  that  they  were  parts  of  interlocutory  dis- 
course, and  that  they  gave  rise  to  questions  and  to  answers. 
It  is  highly  probable  that  all  of  them  were  preceded  and  fol- 
lowed by  expository  matter,  on  w'hich  the  parables  were  wrought 
like  the  figures  upon  lace.  The  sudden  addiction  of  Christ  to 
parables  is  the  sign  of  a  serious  change  in  his  relations  to  tliat 
part  of  the  people  who  were  now  secretly  banding  together  in 
opposition  to  his  influence.  We  have  already  seen  the  feeling 
which  this  conduct  produced  in  his  bosom.  Although  his  per- 
sonal relations  were  apparently  not  affected,  and  he  moved 
among  the  Pharisees  as  he  had  always  done,  he  regarded  por- 
tions of  them  as  being  so  dangerous  that  it  was  prudent  to 
forestall  their  efforts  to  catch  somcthiuff  out  of  Ms  mouth,  that  then 
rnigM  accuse  him. 

A  parable  —  or  a  moral  truth  thrown  into  the  form  of  an 
imaginary  history,  a  germ  drama  —  was  peculiarly  fitted  for 
the  double  office  which  in  his  hands  it  had  to  perform.  It  was 
an  instructive  form  of  speech,  addi-essing  the  imagination,  and 
clinging  tenaciously  to  the  memoiy.  It  was  admirably  suited 
to  the  intelligence  of  the  common  people.  It  had  also  this  ad- 
vantage, that  throughout  the  East  it  w\as  a  familiar  style  of 
instruction,  and  the  people  were  both  used  to  it  and  fond  of 
it.  On  the  other  hand,  its  polemic  advantages  were  eminent. 
By  parables  Jesus  could  advance  his  views  with  the  utmost 
boldness,  and  yet  give  to  his  enemies  but  little  chance  of  per- 
verting his  words.  It  was  necessary  to  baffle  tiieir  devices, 
without  restrictmg  the  scope  of  his  teaching  or  abating  his 
activity. 


^ 


-ff 


fl a 

302  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

We  have  already  glanced  at  the  methods  by  which  the  Scribes 
sought  an  end  to  this  reformer,  as  soon  as  they  became  satisfied 
that  he  could  not  be  used  as  a  tool  for  their  own  advantage. 
The  topic  will  bear  unfolding  still  further.  They  first  attempted 
to  excite  against  him  the  fears  of  the  government,  and  to 
cause  his  arrest  as  one  politically  dangerous.  This  would  seem 
beforehand  to  promise  the  sui'est  and  speediest  results.  Hei'od 
was  suspicious,  jealous  of  his  power,  and  cruel  in  vindicating 
it.  The  great  excitement  which  kindled  aroiuid  Jesus,  and 
the  excessive  throngs  which  followed  him,  gave  color  to  lui- 
fiivorable  representations.  The  general  conduct  of  Jesus  must 
have  been  very  circumspect.  Indeed,  we  are  struck,  not  only 
with  the  absence  of  political  topics  from  his  teachings,  but  with 
the  unworldly  treatment  of  common  secular  duties.  311/  king- 
dom is  not  of  ihis  world  was  as  plainly  indicated  by  the  Sermon 
on  the  Mount  as  by  his  final  declaration.  Politicians  were 
shrewd  enough  to  see  that  Jesus  had  no  purpose  of  publicly 
or  secretl}'  organizing  the  people.  Every  political  party  has 
one  or  two  sensitive  tests.  If  a  man  is  sound  or  harmless  in 
respect  to  them,  he  is  regarded  as  safe.  In  ecclesiastical  ad- 
ministration these  tests  are  apt  to  be  doctrinal  or  ritual.  In 
political  management  they  are  more  likely  to  relate  to  prac- 
tical policy.  Judged  by  political  tests,  it  must  have  seemed  to 
disinterested  spectators  that  Jesus  was  simply  a  very  benevolent 
man,  with  great  power  of  personal  fascination,  who  indulged  in 
impracticable  dreams  of  an  ideal  future ;  that  he  neglected  the 
most  admirable  opportunities  for  forming  a  party,  and  squan- 
dered his  influence  for  lack  of  organization.  The  people  again 
and  again  came  at  his  call,  but  dissolved  and  sunk  awa3'  with- 
out bringing  to  him  any  advantage.  His  doctrine  passed  over 
the  surface  of  society  as  the  shadows  of  white  clouds  high  up 
in  the  heavens  pass  over  fields  and  forests,  making  transient 
pictures,  but  changing  nothing  in  root,  leaf,  or  fruit.  There 
was  far  less  to  fear  in  such  a  man  than  in  the  narrower,  but 
more  immediately  practical,  John  the  Baptist.  Besides,  it  may 
be  presumed  that  thei-e  were  in  Herod's  household  friends  of 
Jesus,  who  had  the  ear  of  the  king  or  of  his  advisers.  We 
know  that  the  wife  of  Herod's  steward  was  a  devoted  friend 
to   the   prophet  of  Galilee.      The  fate   of  men   and  of  policies        j 

^ ^ 


fl- -a 

AROUND    THE  SEA    OF   GALILEE.  303 

often  depends  upon  the  soft  whisper,  in  an  hour  of  leisure,  of 
one  whom  the  public  neither  sees  nor  knows,  whose  very  obscu- 
rity lends  to  his  influence  by  disarming  jealousy  or  the  fear  of 
selfish  counsel. 

Political  influences  failing,  the  next  obvious  method  of  de- 
stroying Jesus  would  be  to  embroil  him  with  the  people.  The 
Pharisees,  representing  the  patriotic  feeling  of  the  nation,  were 
veiy  popular  with  the  masses.  The  people  were  apt  upon  the 
slightest  provocation  to  burst  out  into  uncontrollable  fiuiaticism. 
How  easy  it  would  be  to  sweep  away  this  man  of  Nazareth  in 
some  wild  outbreak !  But  Jesus,  a  man  of  the  common  people, 
living  daj'  by  day  among  them,  familiar  with  all  their  prejudices, 
their  thoughts,  their  wants,  and  ministering  to  their  necessities 
by  almost  daily  acts  of  beneficence,  could  not  easily  be  with- 
drawn from  the  sympathies  of  the  poor.  The  crowds  of  grateful 
creatures  that  surrounded  him  might  be  ignorant  of  his  real 
doctrines,  and  take  little  profit  from"  his  spirit;  but  they  proved 
a  stx'onger  barrier  between  him  and  his  enemies  of  the  syna- 
gogue and  the  Temple  than  an  imperial  anny  would  have  been. 
The}^  were  unconsciously  his  body-guard. 

The  only  other  method  of  putting  Jesus  out  of  the  way  was 
by  the  exercise  of  the  power  of  discipline  in  the  hands  of  the 
Jewish  Sanhedrim.  But  a  trial  for  heresy  required  material.  It 
was  not  easy  to  procure  it.  Jesus  Avas  in  disagreement  with 
the  religious  leaders  of  his  people,  but  he  was  historically  in 
accord  with  Moses  and  the  Prophets.  He  was  really  more 
orthodox  than  the  Rabbis. 

It  was  for  the  sake  of  bringing  him  to  tibial  before  the  relig- 
ious tribunal  of  his  people  for  some  form  of  error,  that  he  was 
now  watched  with  indefatigable  vigilance ;  and  the  change  in 
his  method  of  teaching  may  be  attributed  greatly  to  that.  For 
a  marked  change  took  place  in  the  style  of  his  teaching  soon 
after  the  calling  and  sending  forth  of  his  disciples.  In  expound- 
ing to  them  the  parable  •  of  the  Sower,  as  we  shall  see,  Jesus 
expressly  gave  as  a  reason  for  using  the  parabolic  form  in 
teaching,  that  it  would  baffle  his  enemies.  It  woifld  convey  the 
truth ;  and  yet,  as  the  vehicle  was  a  fiction,  his  adversaries 
would  be  unable  to  catch  him  in  his  words.  There  is  no  in- 
stance in  which  his  parables  were  alleged  as  an  offence.     The 

* ^ 


a- ^ -^ 

304  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

Pharisees  knew  at  wliom  they  were  aimed ;  yet  so  wisely  did 
Jesus  frame  them,  that  nothing  contrary  to  the  law  or  to 
national  customs  could  be  made  out  of  them. 

But  the  larger  use  of  the  parable  in  his  teachings  is  not  the 
onh'  change  to  be  noticed  at  this  period.  We  shall  find  an 
impetus  to  his  discourses,  an  attacking  force,  which  shoAvs  that 
he  designed  to  put  his  adversaries  on  the  defensive.  Instead 
of  watching  him,  they  found  themselves  impelled  to  study  their 
own  defence.  Many  came  as  if  conscious  of  great  superiority, 
and  as  pompous  patrons.  But  they  were  handled  as  if  they 
were  very  poorly  instructed  pupils. 

These  considerations  of  the  state  of  the  conflict  will  not  only 
illustrate  the  general  prudence  of  Jesus's  course,  but  will  give 
significance  to  many  incidents  which  otherwise  would  lose  their 
real  bearings. 

It  was  in  the  face  and  imder  the  influence  of  this  crafty 
conspiracy  against  him  that  he  pronoimced  the  words  recorded 
by  Luke,  which  not  only  informed  them  explicitly  that  he 
divined  their  plans,  but  instructed  his  disciples  that  both  they 
and  their  master  were  under  the  care  of  a  Divine  Providence 
which  watches  over  the  minutest  elements  of  creation.  Con- 
sidered as  the  utterance  of  one  standing  amidst  shrewd  and 
venomous  enemies,  this  tranquillizing  and  comforting  spirit  is 
truly  divine. 

''  In  the  mean  time,  when  there  were  gathered  together  an 
innumerable  multitude  of  people,  insomuch  that  they  trode  one 
upon  another,  he  began  to  say  unto  his  disciples  first  of  all,  Be- 
ware ye  of  the  leaven  of  the  Pharisees,  which  is  hypocrisy.  For 
there  is  nothing  covered  that  shall  not  be  revealed ;  neither 
hid,  that  shall  not  be  known.  Therefore  whatsoever  ye  have 
spoken  in  darkness  shall  be  heard  in  the  light ;  and  that  which 
ye  have  spoken  in  the  ear  in  closets  shall  be  proclaimed  upon 
the  house-tops.  And  I  say  unto  you  my  friends,  Be  not  afraid 
of  them  that  kill  the  body,  and  after  that  have  no  more  that 
they  can  do.  But  I  will  forewarn  you  whom  ye  shall  fear :  Fear 
him  which,  after  he  hath  killed,  hath  power  to  cast  into  hell ; 
yea,  I  say  unto  you,  Fear  him.  Are  not  five  sparrows  sold  for 
two  farthings  ?  and  not  one  of  them  is  forgotten  before  God : 
Ijut  even  the  very  hairs  of  your  head  are  all  numbered.     Fear 


^ 


■ff 


f 


AROUND    THE  SEA    OF   GALILEE. 

not,  therefore :  ye  are  of  more  value  than  many  sparrows.  Also 
I  say  unto  you,  Whosoever  shall  confess  me  before  men,  him 
shall  the  Son  of  Man  also  confess  before  the  angels  of  God  : 
but  he  that  denieth  me  before  men  shall  be  denied  before  the 
angels  of  God.  And  whosoever  shall  speak  a  word  against  the 
Son  of  Man,  it  shall  be  forgiven  him ;  but  unto  him  that  blas- 
phemeth  against  the  Holy  Ghost,  it  shall  not  be  forgiven.  And 
when  they  bring  you  unto  the  synagogues,  and  unto  magis- 
trates and  powers,  take  ye  no  thought  how  or  what  thing  ye 
shall  answer,  or  what  ye  shall  say:  for  the  Holy  Ghost  shall 
teach  you  in  the  same  hour  what  ye  ought  to  say." 

An  incident  occurred  about  this  time  which  deserves  more 
than  a  passing  notice.  A  young  man  appealed  to  Jesus  against 
his  brother,  in  the  matter  of  dividing  some  property  that  had 
been  left  to  them.  "Master,  speak  to  my  brother  that  he 
divide  the  inheritance  Avith  me."  One  who  was  smarting  under 
a  wrong  would  naturally  appeal  to  a  great  teacher  of  morals 
for  advice  and  influence.  The  reply  of  Jesus  surprises  us  by  an 
apparent  severity  for  which  at  first  we  cannot  account,  —  "  Man, 
who  made  me  a  judge  or  a  divider  over  you?"  But  if  the 
cunning  Scribes  had  whispered  this  young  man  on,  hoping  to 
induce  Jesus  through  his  sympathies  to  assume  judicial  func- 
tions and  to  step  into  a  snare,  we  can  understand  that  the 
severity  of  his  abrupt  refusal  was  meant  more  for  the  Pharisees 
than  for  their  dupe.  Yet,  though  he  could  not  assume  the 
authority  of  courts  and  distribute  property,  he  could  fasten  the 
attention  upon  the  most  lofty  views  respecting  the  ends  of  life. 
Bcirarc  of  coniousncss :  for  a  man's  kfe  comiddh  not  in  the  abun- 
dance  of  the  things  which  he  possesseth.  One  may  be  happy  in 
riches;  but  there  is  a  higher  enjoyment  than  any  which  wealth 
can  bestow.  This  view  was  not  left  as  a  mere  apothegm. 
He  framed  it  into  a  jiicture  which  no  one  could  ever  forget. 
For  the  memory  of  things  received  through  the  imagination  is 
iueradicable. 

In  a  dozen  hues  he  gives  a  perfect  drama.  Avarice,  made 
good-natured  by  prosperity,  counsels  with  itself  and  fills  the 
future  with  visions  of  self-indulgence.  Then  from  out  the  great 
realm  above  comes  a  voice  pronouncing  eternal  bankruptcy  to 
the  presumptuous  dreamer! 

^ ^ 


[fi a 

306  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,  THE  CHRIST. 

"  And  he  spake  a  parable  unto  them,  saying,  The  ground  of 
a  certain  rich  man  brought  forth  plentifullj^ :  and  he  thought 
within  himself,  saying,  What  shall  I  do,  because  I  have  no  room 
■where  to  bestow  my  fruits  ?  And  he  said.  This  will  I  do  :  I  will 
pull  down  my  barns,  and  build  greater ;  and  there  will  I  bestow 
all  my  fruits  and  my  goods.  And  I  will  say  to  my  soul,  Soul, 
thou  hast  much  goods  laid  iip  for  many  years ;  take  thine  ease, 
eat,  di-ink,  and  be  merry.  But  God  said  unto  him,  Thou  fool, 
this  night  thy  soul  shall  be  required  of  thee  :  then  whose 
shall  those  things  be  which  thou  hast  provided  ?  So  is  he 
that  lajeth  up  treasure  for  himself,  and  is  not  rich  toward 
God." 

This  is  the  contrast  that  evermore  exists,  in  ten  thousand 
forms,  between  the  visible  and  the  invisible.  Just  beyond  in- 
ordinate mirth  lie  gloom  and  sadness.  Through  the  tears  of 
desponding  sorrow  rises  on  the  background  beyond  a  tender 
i-ainbow.  When  the  sun  is  setting,  the  human  form  projects 
a  grotesque  and  monstrous  shadow  far  along  the  ground  ;  and  so 
character  casts  forward  a  shadow  into  the  future,  whether  fair  or 
hideous,  in  prodigious  disproportion  to  the  seeming  magnitude 
of  the  living  reality. 

The  parables  of  Jesus,  as  we  find  them  in  the  Gospels,  are 
like  pearls  cast  into  a  jewel-case,  without  order  or  selection. 
The  thread  that  connected  them  is  lost.  But  we  often  find 
an  inward  congruity  between  the  parable  and  the  events  just 
then  happening,  that  creates  a  probability  as  to  the  order. 
Thus  the  two  parables  respecting  the  imminence  of  death  would 
seem  naturally  to  have  followed  the  parable  of  the  rich  fool. 
There  are  two ;  one  in  light,  the  other  in  shadow.  Could  any- 
thing be  more  radiant  and  original,  contrasted  with  the  fright- 
ful pagan  ideas  of  death,  or  with  the  dismal  ideas  of  the 
primitive  Jewish  nations,  than  the  figure  of  Death  as  a  bride- 
groom returning  from  wedding  festivities  to  his  household  ? 
Yet,  in  exhorting  his  disciples  to  be  in  constant  pi-eparation 
■for  the  event  of  death,  Jesus  urges  them  to  be  vigilant  and 
cheerful  watchers,  "  like  unto  men  that  wait  for  their  lord,  when 
he  will  return  from  the  wedding."  Their  lord  shall  cause  them 
to  sit  down  to  a  l^anquet,  and  he  himself,  in  love,  shall  honor  and 
serve   them.      This   watching  must    run   through  the   series  of 

^ ^ 


[fl- 


^ 

AROUND    THE  SEA    OF   GALILEE.  307 

hours,  whether  he  come  in  the  second  watch  or  in  the  third 
watch.  It  is  to  be  an  all-night  fidelitj^  There  is  a  fine  vein 
of  jjoetry  in  the  implication  that  this  life  is  a  night,  and  death 
the  breaking  of  the  morning,  the  awaking  from  sleep.  But 
the  mention  of  the  night  watches  suggests  a  new  illustration, 
and  the  parable  changes.  It  is  a  householder  now,  secure^ 
asleep,  dreaming  happily.  But  hovering  near  is  the  artful 
thief  He  steals  noiselessly  to  the  window.  He  enters  without 
discovery  and  despoils  the  house  of  treasure  in  the  very  face 
of  its  OAvner,  too  fost  asleep  to  know  the  mischief  that  is 
going  on.  When  the  man  awakes  and  discerns  the  state  of 
things,  no  doubt  he  will  bestir  himself  But  too  late  !  The 
thief  is  gone,  and  with  him  the  goods  I^ 

Peter  now  interposes  a  question  as  to  whether  the  parables 
referred  to  the  disciples  only,  or  also  to  the  whole  multitude. 
The  reply  is  not  recorded ;  but  the  new  parable  which  followed 
it  indicates  the  nature  of  the  reply,  — that  he  was  speaking 
to  all  alike.  In  a  few  words  Jesus  depicts  the  interior  of 
some  princely  household ;  the  master  is  absent,  and  not  soon 
expected  home ;  the  faithless  steward,  assuming  airs  of  supe- 
riorit}^,  betakes  himself  to  inordinate  festivities,  and  in  his 
drunken  revelling  plays  the  petty  tyrant,  abusing  the  servants 
with  words  and  blows.  In  the  midst  of  the  shameful  debauch, 
the  master  suddenly  appears.  In  an  instant  all  is  changed. 
The  unfoithful  servant  is  convicted,  dispossessed,  and  cast  forth. 
There  could  be  no  doubt  in  Peter's  mind  whether  he  spoke 
"to  all"  or  not.  By  such  a  picture,  the  materials  of  which 
were  too  abundant  in  that  age  and  country,  Jesus  would  fix  in 
the  memory  of  a  curious  crowd,  subject  to  evanescent  excite- 
ments, the  great  danger  of  giving  way  to  their  passions  in  this 
life  without  regard  to  that  great  After-Life,  which,  though  si- 
lent, is  certain  and  near  at  hand,  and  whose  happiness  depends 
upon  the  results  of  the  moral  education  evolved  in  this  visible 
world. 

The  picture  was  not  only  likely  to  abide  in  the  memory, 
teaching  its  own  lesson,  but  it  was  made  to  carry  with  it  cer- 
tain short  sentences,  whose  truths  lie  at  the  foundation  of 
responsible  moral  government.     The  servant  that  knew  his  lord's 


'  Luke  .\ii.  35  -40. 
^ 


-ff 


0- ^ 

308  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

will,  and  did  it  not,  shall  be  beaten  with  many  stripes ;  but  he 
that  knew  not,  with  few  stripes.  The  severity  of  punishment  is 
to  be  graded  by  the  deliberation  with  which  the  law  of  duty 
is  broken.  Under  a  government  of  physical  laws,  the  motive 
of  the  transgressor  has  no  influence  upon  the  penalty.  The 
ignorant  and  the  intelligent,  those  who  disobey  wilfully  and 
those  who  do  it  unknowingly,  suffer  alike.  But  under  a  moral 
government  the  penalty  is  graded  according  to  the  deliber- 
ation and  wilfulness  with  which  disobedience  takes  place.  The 
very  essence  of  moral  government  consists  in  its  administration, 
not  by  an  implacable  law,  but  by  an  intelligent  ruler,  who  can 
shape  rewards  and  penalties  to  the  moral  character  of  a  subject's 
conduct.  It  is  plain  that  Jesus  Avas  speaking  of  the  future  life, 
and  of  the  effect  of  men's  conduct  here  upon  their  condition 
hereafter.  Indeed,  we  shall  presently  see  that  in  this  respect 
he  stood  in  extraordinary  contrast  to  the  great  teachers  of  the 
Old  Testament  dispensation,  who,  whatever  may  have  been 
their  private  hopes,  never  derived  motives  or  sanctions  from 
the  great  truth  of  an  after  life,  but  wholly  from  the  relations 
of  conduct  to  this  present  existence.  Jesus,  on  the  contrary, 
scarcely  noticing  the  effect  of  human  actions  on  men's  secular 
welfare,  almost  invariably  points  to  the  future  world  as  the 
sphere  in  Avhich  the  nature  and  consequences  of  men's  actions 
will  be  disclosed. 

The  doctrine  of  immortality  in  a  world  to  come  has  not  in 
the  teachings  of  Jesus  the  appearance  of  a  fresh  philosophical 
theoiy  or  of  a  new  truth,  kindling  in  him  a  constant  surprise 
and  intensity.  It  seems  rather  like  unconscious  knowledge. 
He  speaks  of  the  great  invisible  world  as  if  it  had  always  lain 
before  him,  and  as  familiarly  as  to  us  stretches  out  the  land- 
scape Avhich  we  have  seen  since  our  birth.  The  assertion  of  a 
future  state  is  scarcely  to  be  met  with  .in  his  teachings :  the 
assumption  of  it  pervades  them. 

This  familiarity  with  another  world,  and  the  calm  sense  of 
its  transcendent  value  over  this  life,  must  be  kept  in  mind  if  we 
would  fully  appreciate  his  instructions.  Men  seemed  to  him  as 
laborious  tritlers,  toiling  for  perishable  things,  and  indifferent  to 
things  momentous  and  eternal.  That  silent  contrast  between 
the  spiritual  sphere  and  the  world  of  matter  seems  never  to  have 

^ ^ 


[fi 

AROUND    THE  SEA    OF   GALILEE.  309 

been  absent  from  his  mind.  Out  of  this  atmosphere  came  para- 
ble, criticism,  judgment,  and  rebuke,  and  their  force  and  spirit 
cannot  be  understood  unless  we  enter  fully  into  this  concep- 
tion. 

To  one  before  whom  dwelt  the  eternal  calm  and  joy  of  a 
higher  life,  how  foolish  must  have  seemed  the  frivolous  zeal, 
the  intense  absorption  in  trifles,  the  thoroughly  sensuous  life, 
of  the  Pharisees !  Their  sacred  heats  were  like  a  rash  upon 
the  skin.  They  thought  themselves  superlatively  wise.  They 
prided  themselves  upon  their  tact  in  managing  men,  their  sa- 
gacity in  planning  and  skill  in  executing  their  petty  schemes 
of  party  and  personal  ambition.  And  yet  in  their  very  midst 
stood  the  greatest  person  that  had  ever  appeared  on  earth, 
teaching  sublime  wisdom,  almost  imheard ;  and  the  Pharisees 
could  see  nothing  in  him  but  a  dangerous  zealot !  "  Ye  can 
discern  the  face  of  the  sky,"  said  Jesus  to  them,  "  and  of  the 
earth,  but  how  is  it  that  ye  do  not  discern  this  time  ?  Why 
even  of  yourselves  do  ye  not  judge  what  is  right  ? "  They 
were  going  on  blindly  to  eternity,  there  to  meet  an  unlooked- 
for  doom.  Jesus  likened  them  to  debtors  in  the  hands  of  a 
rigorous  creditor :  When  iJmii  goest  u'ith  thine  adversary  to  the  mag- 
istrate, as  thou  art  in  the  way,  give  diligence  that  tJmu  mayest  he 
delivered  from  him;  lest  he  hale  thee  to  the  judge,  and  the  jttdge 
deliver  thee  to  the  officer,  and  the  officer  cast  thee  into  pn'son.  I  tell 
thee,  thou  shall  not  depart  thence  till  thou  hast  j^f^id  the  very  last 
mite. 

And  yet  there  was  hope  even  for  Pharisees.  God  was  waiting 
wdth  long  patience,  and  bringing  to  bear  upon  them  the  most 
extraordinary  moral  influences.  For  a  little  time  this  Avould 
continue.  Then  would  come  the  irremediable  end.  All  this 
he  set  forth  in  the  parable  of  the  fig-tree  :  —  He  spake  also  this 
jKirable :  A  certain  man  had  a  fig-tree  j)lunted  in  his  vineyard;  and 
he  came  and  sougM  fruit  thereon,  and  found  wme.  Then  said  he  unto 
the  dresser  of  his  vineyard,  Behold,  tlicse  three  years  I  come  seeking 
fruit  on  this  fig-tree,  and  find  none :  cut  it  down ;  why  cwnhcreth  it 
the  grotmd?  And  he  answering  said  tmto  him,  Lord,  let  it  alone  this 
year  also,  till  I  shall  dig  ahoid  if,  and  dung  it :  and  if  it  hear  fruit, 
well :  and  if  not,  then  after  that  thou  shalt  cut  it  doivn. 

While   he   was   thus    teaching,   some    one    from   the   crowd  — 

^_ ^ 


[& 


-^ 


ilO 


THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 


with   that  famiharity  which  strikingly   reveals    the    footing    on 
which  Jesus  stood    with    the    peojile,    and  which  led    them   to 

bring  to  his  notice  the  news,  the 
rumors,  and  the  questions  of  the 
da}'-,  that  they  might  hear  what 
he  had  to  any  —  told  him  of 
the  slaughter  by  Herod,  in  the 
Temple  at  Jerusalem,  of  certain 
people  of  his  own  jirovince  of 
Galilee. 

It  is  probable  that  this  was 
one  of  those  minor  insurrections 
which  were  continually  taking 
I  place  among  the  Jews,  one  which 
was  not  of  sufficient  importance 
to  be  noticed  in  any  history. 
The  informants  of  Jesus  appear 
to  have  thought  that  the  cruel 
death  of  these  men  indicated 
their  great  sinfulness.  No.  The 
providential  dealings  of  God  with 
men  do  not  proceed  upon  grounds 
of  moral  desert.  He  maketh  the 
sun  to  rise  and  the  rain  to  fall 
upon  the  good  and  bad  alike. 
There  ivcre  present  at  that  season  some  that  told  him  of  the  Galileans, 
whose  blood  Pilate  had  mingled  wiih  their  sacrifices.  And  Jesus  answer- 
ing said  nnto  than,  Suppose  ye  that  these  Galileans  were  sinners  aboi'e 
all  the  Galileans,  because  they  suffered  such  things  ?  I  tell  yon.  Nay : 
but,  except  ye  repent,  ye  shall  all  liJreirise  perish.  Or  those  eighteen, 
npon  wlmn  the  tower  in  Siloam  fell,  and  slav  them,  think  ye  that  they 
ivere  sinners  above  all  men  that  dwelt  in  Jerusalem  ?  I  tell  you.  Nay : 
but,  except  ye  repent,  ye  sJmll  all  likewise  perish. 

By  this  declaration  Jesus  put  himself  in  direct  antagonism  to 
the  philosophy  of  his  nation,  and  to  the  belief  which  had  pre- 
vailed through  the  whole  period  of  the  Old  Testament  dispen- 
sation. The  old  Hebrew  approached  very  near  to  the  modern 
doctrine  of  material  laws  ;  only,  he  attributed  directly  to  the 
Divine  will  the  effects  which  we  refer  to  "  natural  laws."     But 


FIG    AXn    LEAVES. 


^ 


-# 


cs a 

AROUND    THE  SEA    OF   GALILEE.  311 

lie  believed,  with  the  modern,  that  good  or  evil  results  from 
obedience  or  disobedience.  By  a  natural  inference  he  supposed 
that  one  upon  whom  a  great  evil  came  was  suffering  the  pun- 
ishment of  sin.  Although  the  doctrine  of  a  future  life  and  of 
rewards  and  punishments  after  death  was  already  familiar  to 
the  Jewish  mind,  yet  the  old  notion  that  misfortune  is  an  evi- 
dence of  criminality  had  not  been  weeded  out,  and  Jesus 
plainly  told  them  that  those  who  had  been  slain  by  Herod,  and 
those  crushed  b}^  the  falling  tower  in  Siloam,  were  not  sinful 
more  than  others.  CJod's  judgments  are  spiritual,  and  they 
overhang  all  men  alike  who  continue  in  woiidly  and  selfish 
courses. 

In  the  incessant  conflict  of  opinion  that  now  attended  Jesus, 
he  was  obliged  to  assume  a  vigorous  defence,  or  to  make  i^un- 
gent  criticism.  To  easy  and  indolent  natures,  that  do  not  so 
much  love  peace  as  dislike  laborious  exertion,  it  is  more  than 
likely  that  Jesus  seemed  an  unnecessary  disturber.  Why  is  it 
needful,  they  Avould  say,  to  dispute  with  the  authorities  of  the 
synagogue  ?  Of  what  use  will  be  so  much  reprehension  ?  Is 
the  Messiah's  kingdom  to  be  advanced  by  such  intestine  tur- 
moil and  conflict?  Is  not  the  coming  Prince  to  be  meek  and 
gentle  among  his  own  people,  and  terrible  only  to  the  hea- 
then ?  And  his  kingdom,  is  it  not  to  bring  peace  ?  Human 
nature  must  have  undergone  a  great  change  since  then,  if 
many  of  his  auditors  did  not  suggest  to  him  such  consider- 
ations. 

But  f;ir  different  was  the  Messiah's  kingdom !  It  was  to  have 
no  external  form  and  no  national  history.  No  one  could  see  it 
coming,  as  he  could  view  the  advance  of  an  army,  or  witness 
the  development  and  growth  of  a  secular  nation.  When  men 
should  have  their  passions  in  perfect  control,  when  benevo- 
lence should  have  expelled  selfishness,  when  purity  and  truth 
should  pervade  society  where  deceit  and  vulgar  appetite  held 
sway,  then  the  kingdom  of  the  Messiah  would  dawn.  But  how 
long  and  severe  a  struggle  !  The  corruption  of  human  nature 
would  not  be  purged  out  without  pain.  There  doubtless  rose 
before  the  mind  of  Jesus  those  ages  of  conflict  through  which 
Christian  civilization  has  sought  to  expel  the  animal  passions 
from  the  control  of  human  society.     Suppose  ye,  he  cried,  that 


[fi a 

312  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,    THE  CHRIST. 

I  am  come  to  give  peace  on  earth  ?  T  toll  30U  nay,  but  rather 
division!  And  it  shall  not  be  simply  a  division  created  hy  self- 
ishness, or  the  collisions  of  self-will  and  pride.  Conscience  also 
shall  disturb  men.  Renewed  and  exalted  sensibilities  shall  make 
the  selfish  ways  of  life  seem  hateful,  and  a  zeal  for  purity  and 
goodness  shall  burp  as  a  fire.  My  kingdom  shall  separate  clos- 
est friends.  It  shall  divide  the  household.  The  father  shall  be 
divided  against  the  sou,  and  the  son  against  the  father ;  the 
mother  against  the  daughter,  and  the  daughter  against  the 
mother. 

We  must  not  imagine  all  these  things  as  said  on  a  single 
occasion,  or  before  the  same  audience.  The  record  is  but  an 
epitome  of  the  labors  of  daA's  and  weeks,  —  in  Capernaum,  by 
the  sea-.shore,  in  the  fields,  along  the  wayside,  in  towns  and 
villages.  The  sun  rose  and  set  between  many  of  the  lines  of 
the  record.  Between  verse  and  verse  miracles  were  performed. 
Much  that  was  said  and  done  is  left  out.  Jesus  was  more  active 
than  appears  on  the  fiice  of  the  Gospel  narratives;  rich  as  they 
are  in  his  words,  he  was  far  more  fruitful  than  they  represent. 
John,  with  the  first  three  Gospels  before  him,  closes  his  own 
history  of  the  life  of  Jesus  w'ith  a  declaration  whose  extrava- 
gance fitly  attests  his  sense  of  the  fruitfulness  of  Jesus's  life. 
And  there  are  also  many  other  things  ivhich  Jesus  did,  the  ivhich,  if 
thejj  should  be  vriiicn  every  one,  I  suppose  that  even  the  world  itself 
could  not  contain  the  hoolcs  that  should  be  written. 

The  period  of  which  we  are  now  treating  was  the  very  height 
of  the  Lord's  activity,  and  we  may  easily  imagine  that  the  un- 
recorded part  of  his  labors  far  exceeded  those  portions  which 
were  afterwards  written  down.  Jesus  did  not  live  all  the  time 
in  the  excitement  of  the  throng.  At  noonday  he  retired  from 
the  open  air  to  the  shelter  of  his  Capernaum  house.  When 
the  heat  diminished,  and  the  shadows  began  to  fall  upon  the 
lake,  "went  Jesus  out  of  the  house  and  sat  by  the  seaside." 
The  Sea  of  Galilee  would  hardly  have  been  heard  of  had  it 
depended  for  fame  upon  its  scenery  alone.  A  hundred  lakes 
surpass  it  in  picturesque  beaut^^  But  no  other  lake  on  earth 
fires  the  imagination  and  fills  the  heart  with  such  emotion  as 
this  strip  of  water  a  little  over  twelve  miles  long,  and  in  its 
widest  part  not  quite  seven  broad.     Although  it  is  between  six 

* ^ ^ 


iB- -^ 

ABOUND    THE  SEA    OF   GALILEE.  313 

and  seven  hundred  feet  below  the  level  of  the  Mediterranean 
Sea,  the  descent  to  it  is  not  precipitous,  and  at  but  few  points  is 
the  shore  line  steep,  or  overhung  with  cliffs  of  any  considerable 
height.  The  west  shore,  especially,  is  bounded  by  slopes  of 
rounded  hills,  and  in  some  places  edged  with  small  plains,  — 
notably  the  little  plain  of  Genesareth,  whose  fertility  and  beauty 
seem  to  have  excited  the  enthusiasm  of  Josephus. 

The  public  life  of  Jesus  may  be  said  to  have  had  its  centre 
and  chief  development  around  the  Sea  of  Galilee.  Nothing  can 
excel  or  equal  in  intensity  of  interest  the  few  closing  weeks  of 
his  life  in  Jerusalem;  but,  these  apart,  the  Sea  of  Galilee  wit- 
nessed the  chief  part  of  his  ministrations.  This  he  was  himself 
conscious  of  He  taught  everywhere,  through  Upper  and  Lower 
Galilee  ;  but  only  against  the  cities  on  the  shores  of  the  lake 
did  he  utter  maledictions  for  their  obduracy.  Upon  them  he 
had  bestowed  a  long-continued  and  fruitful  activity  without  a 
parallel.  But  little  of  his  time  seems  to  have  been  given  to  the 
southern  portions  of  the  lake-shore  population.  He  dwelt  upon 
the  northern  border,  and  the  most  memorable  events  of  his 
Galilean  ministry  took  place  at  the  upper  end  of  the  lake ; 
and  with  a  few  striking  exceptions,  such  as  the  feeding  of  the 
multitude  and  the  casting  out  of  demons  from  the  man  of  the 
tombs,  his  deeds  and  teachings  belong  chiefly  to  the  northwest 
portion. 

It  was  but  a  short  distance  from  Capernaum  to  the  plain  of 
Genesareth.  Part  of  the  beach  is  made  up  of  fragments  of 
basalt,  but  in  many  places  it  is  composed  of  fine  white  sand, 
pebbles,  and  shells.  Without  doubt  it  was  far  more  pleasant  for 
passage  in  that  day,  when  the  commerce  of  a  swarming  popu- 
lation requii'ed  such  a  roadway  as  the  shore  would  make,  than 
it  now  is,  after  the  neglect  of  ages.  The  traveller  then  would 
find  many  a  sward  of  green  grass  kindled  with  brilliant  flowers. 
It  is  doubtful  if,  in  the  time  of  our  history,  the  borders  of  the 
lake  were  edged  with  trees  to  the  degree  that  we  are  accus- 
tomed to  see  around  the  lakes  in  temperate  Northern  lands. 
But  they  doubtless  flourished  to  an  extent  which  one  could  , 
hardly  imagine  who  now  looks  upon  the  barren  hills  and  shore 
from  which  vandal  hands  have  stripped  wellnigh  every  tree. 
There   must  have   been  places  within  easy  reach  of  his  house 


a- -ft 

314  THE  LIFE    OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

in  Capernaum  where  cool  rocks  were  overshadowed  by  dense 
foliaoe.  Macgregor,  who  exj^lored  the  Sea  of  GaUlee  in  a  canoe, 
found  near  to  Bethsaida  "  great  rocks  projecting  from  the  shore 
into  the  waves,  while  verdure  most  profuse  teems  over  them, 
and  long  streamers  of  '  maiden's-hair,'  and  richest  grasses  and 
ferns  and  briers  and  moss,  wave  pendent  in  the  breeze,  or  trail 
upon  the  water."  Along  the  shore,  in  favored  spots,  grew  reeds 
and  rushes,  and  the  far-famed  papyrus  ;  the  olive,  the  fig,  and 
the  palm  at  that  time  abounded.  Nor  can  we  doubt  that  oaks, 
walnuts,  and  terebinths  cast  down  dense  and  grateful  shade  on 
manv  a  point  along  the  shore.  The  thorn-trees,  in  thickets, 
and  luxuriant  clumps  of  oleander,  glowing  with  rosy  and  j^ink 
blossoms  like  a  burning  bush,  added  to  the  charms  of  the 
scene. 

The  solitary  walks  of  Jesus  must  often  have  been  along  this 
level  beach,  which,  with  slight  obstructions  here  and  there,  ran 
aroiuid  the  whole  lake.  He  must  often  have  seen  the  morning 
mists  rise  as  the  sun  advanced,  and  heard  the  cry  of  the  fish- 
ermen returning  shoreward  from  their  early  work.  Before  his 
eyes  rose  the  high  and  scarped  hills  of  Bashan  on  the  east  of 
the  lake.  The  mouth  of  the  upper  Jordan,  coming  into  the  lake 
from  the  north,  was  but  two  or  three  miles  distant,  probably 
not  then  green  with  reeds  as  in  our  day,  but  edged  with  the 
houses  of  cities  now  perished.  That  Jesus  was  observant  of 
natm-e,  at  least  when  associated  with  human  industry,  is  shown 
b}^  his  parables ;  and  it  is  none  the  less  striking  because  liis 
eya  discerned  the  moral  uses,  rather  than  the  purely  a?sthet- 
ical  relations  of  things.  No  one  could  be  conversant  with  the 
Hebrew  prophets,  or  with  the  singers  of  Israel,  and  be  indiffer- 
ent to  the  aspects  of  the  natural  Avorld.  The  moral  suggestions, 
the  suljlimity  and  beauty  of  mountains  and  hills,  of  rivers  and 
the  sea,  of  trees  and  vines,  of  flowers  and  grass,  of  clouds  and 
storms,  of  birds  and  beasts,  as  they  are  felt  by  poetic  and  de- 
Aout  natures  in  our  day,  were  luilcnown  to  the  people  of  an- 
tiquity, with  the  single  exception  of  the  Hebrew  nation.  Jesus 
was  truly  a  Hebrew.  He  loved  solitude,  as  the  great  prophets 
always  did.  He  "discerned  the  fiice  of  the  sky,"  and  the  cloth- 
ing of  the  hills,  and  the  mystery  of  the  sea,  as  well  as  the 
processes  of  husbandry  and  the  ways   of  the  city.      His   resort 

^_ ^ 


[& 


AROUND    THE  SEA    OF   GALILEE.  315 

to  the  shore  was  not  merely  for  purposes  of  lonely  meditation. 
The  sea  was  the  centre  of  active  commerce.  All  along  its  shore 
busy  towns  plied  their  industry.  The  fisheries  were  a  source 
of  great  profit.  The  surfoce  of  the  lake  was  dotted  at  morn- 
ing and  evening  with  fleets  of  boats  busy  in  fishing  ;  others 
darted  hither  and  thither,  transporting  passengers  from  side  to 
side  of  the  lake.  On  its  peaceful  bosom,  too,  had  raged  naval 
battles  between  Roman  and  Jewish  galleys. 

Now  the  sea  is  almost  deserted.  Tiberias  yet  exists;  but  the 
long  belt  of  proud  and  busy  towns  that  encompassed  this  in- 
land lake  is  gone,  and  men  from  distant  lands  grope  among 
the  thorns  or  overgrown  heaps  of  stone,  disputing  the  position 
of  one  and  another  city  which  in  the  days  of  Jesus  seemed 
too  strong  to  be  ever  wasted.  Both  around  the  sea  and  in  all 
the  country  far  away  on  each  side  of  it,  the  cities  and  towns 
have  utterly  perished.  Temples  and  synagogues  are  gone. 
Walls  of  towns  and  marble  palaces  are  in  heaps.  The  archi- 
tectural ambition  of  Herod,  the  city-building  aspirations  of  the 
Greeks,  the  engineering  achievements  of  the  Romans,  all  alike 
have  hopelessly  perished.  The  Lake  of  Genesareth  is  without  a 
boat.  Its  fish  swarm  unmolested.  The  soil  adjacent  runs  rankly 
to  thorns  and  briers.  Only  a  few  Arabs  hover  about  its  edges. 
But  one  thing  remains;  it  is  the  memory  of  Jesus.  The  sky, 
the  surrounding  hills,  and  the  water  have  but  one  story  to  tell 
the  educated  traveller.  Jesus  still  wanders  slowly  along  these 
deserted  shores.  His  spirit  yet  walks  upon  these  waters;  and 
the  very  name  of  this  plain  and  solitary  lake  sends  a  thrill 
through  every  one  who  hears  it! 

Toward  evening,  after  a  day  of  great  labor,  Jesus  resorted 
to  the  shore  of  the  lake.  The  shadows  Avere  fidling  from  the 
west,  and  coolness  was  coming  on  with  night.  Across  the  lake 
the  light  Avas  playing  on  the  lulls,  and  kindling  them  with 
colors  rarely  seen  in  any  other  locality.  If  Jesus  sought  soli- 
tude for  meditation  or  the  refreshment  of  a  walk,  he  was  dis- 
appointed. Such  was  the  intense  interest  now  felt  in  all  his 
doings  that  the  sight  of  him  gathered  a  crowd.  We  have  seen 
before  how  at  times  the  multitude  so  thronged  him  that  he 
had  no  leisure  so  much  as  to  eat,  that  his  family  could  not  by 
any  effort  press  through  to  his  side,  and  that  the  people   abso- 


^ 


a- ^ a 

316  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

lutoly  trod  upon  one  another ;  and  now  so  great  was  the  throng 
upon  the  sea-shore  that  he  took  refuge  in  a  boat,  and,  pushing 
out  a  little,  taught  them  from  this  novel  seat.  If  we  suppose 
that  the  boat  had  been  drawn  up  in  some  inlet,  then  the  audi- 
ence might  line  either  side,  and,  from  the  rise  of  the  ground, 
stand  on  successive  levels,  as  in  a  natural  amphitheatre ;  so  that 
the  "great  multitudes"  ^'come  to  him  out  of  every  city"  could 
easily  be  Avithin  speaking  distance.  We  are  to  remember,  also, 
that  the  region  of  this  lake  is  famed  for  the  propagation  of 
sound.' 

As  soon  as  he  had  gained  a  fovorable  position  for  his  floating 
pulpit,  he  began  to  instruct  the  people,  who  seem  never  to  have 
wearied  of  hearing  his  words,  and  seldom  to  have  oljeyed  them. 
There  was  the  eager,  fickle  multitude,  rapt  in  attention,  stirred 
to  their  souls  while  he  was  speaking.  Yet  their  consciousness 
moved  with  his.  How  beautiful,  while  he  spoke,  was  the  holi- 
ness of  the  kingdom  of  God  !  How  noble  to  break  away  from 
evil  and  rise  to  the  serene  moods  of  virtue  !  But  how  transient 
the  impression  on  their  minds !  Before  the  darkness  fell  upon 
the  sea,  forgetfulness  would  descend  upon  most  of  his  hearers. 
A  few  would  for  some  days  carry  a  heart  of  thoughtful  purpose ; 
but  secular  cares  would  soon  change  the  current,  and  they  would 
relapse  into  indifference.  Only  here  and  there  a  single  one 
would  receive  from  Jesus  the  permanent  impulse  to  a  higher 
life.  This  wasting  away  of  moral  impressions  was  the  very 
theme  of  his  discourse.  Eight  before  his  eyes  and  theirs  were 
the  materials  of  the  parable  which  pictured  the  truth. 

"Hearken:  Behold,  there  went  out  a  sower  to  sow  his  seed: 
and  it  came  to  pass,  as  he  sowed,  some  fell  by  the  wayside,  and 
it  was  trodden  doAvn,  and  the  fowls  of  the  air  came  and  devoured 
it  up.  And  some  fell  on  stony  gi'ound  where  it  had  not  much 
earth ;  and  immediately  it  sprang  up,  because  it  had  no  depth 
of  earth:  but  as  soon  as  it  was  sprung  up,  when  the  sun  was 
up,  it  was  scorched;  and  because  it  lacked  moisture  and  had  no 

'  Macgrcgor,  in  coasting  along  the  sea  in  the  famed  canoe  Rob  Roy,  gives  an  ac- 
count of  a  running  conversation  witli  an  Arab  travelling  on  sliore  while  the  Rob  Roy  was 
paddling  at  a  distance  of  three  hundred  yards  from  him.  "  It  was  very  remarkable  how 
distinctly  every  word  was  heard,  even  at  three  hundred  yards  off';  and  it  was  very  easy 
to  comprehend  how  in  this  clear  air  a  preacher  sitting  in  a  boat  could  easily  be  heard 
by  a  vast  multitude  standing  upon  the  shore." —  The  Rob  Roy  on  the  Jordan,  p.  328. 

^ -^ 


^ 


-^ 


AROUND    THE  SEA    OF   GALILEE. 


317 


root  it  withered  tvsxixy.     And  some  fell  among  thorns,  and  the 
thorns  grew  up  with  it,  and  choked  it,  and  it  yielded  no  fruit. 


OPIENT\L   PLOldllNl.     \M>    M>\M\ 


And  other  fell  on  good  ground,  and  did  j-ield  fruit  that  sprang 
up  and  increased;  and  brought  forth,  some  an  hundred-fold, 
some  sixty-fold,  some  thirty-fold." 

The  grain-fields  were  not,  as  in  our  farming  districts,  near  the 
farmers'  dwellings,  but  remote  from  them,  so  that  the  sower 
indeed  "  went  out "  to  sow ;  there  were  only  paths,  narrow  and 
often  rocky,  and  no  wide  roads  with  fields  of  soil  on  either 
side.  Patches  of  thistles  and  jungles  of  thorns  sprang  up  in 
spots,  and  defied  extermination  ;  while  the  ledges  of  rock  that 
broke  through  to  the  surface,  or  were  covered  by  a  mere  film 
of  soil,  furnished  another  element  of  this  rural  picture. 

Although  truths  illustrated  by  this  parable  are  of  continuous 
efficacy  and  of  universal  application  in  the  propagation  of  moral 
forces  among  men,  yet  it  is  easy  to  see  why  Jesus  should  have 
felt  called  to  announce  such  truth  at  that  particular  time.  Bril- 
liant in  many  respects  as  his  ministry  was,  what,  after  all,  had 
been  gained?  The  expectation  of  a  new  kingdom  was  not  a 
poetic  notion  among  thinking  Jews,  but  a  deep  and  earnest - 
faith,  and  at  times  an  agonizing  wish.  It  was  not  a  matter  to 
be  trifled  with.  He  wdio  claimed,  or  allowed  his  followers  to 
believe,  that  he  was  the  longed-for  One,  and  that  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  was  at  hand,  touched  the  heart  of  the  nation  to  the 
quick.  He  who  excited  hopes  that  verged  upon  fanaticism  must 
not  expect  to  escape,  if  he  did  nothing  to  justify  anticipations 
which  he  had  aroused.  It  is  evident  that  a  spirit  of  impatience 
was  springing  up.  The  message  of  John  from  his  prison  is  one 
indication  of  it;  another  is  the  impression  of  Jesus's  own  rela- 


[S ^ -^ 

318  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE  CHRIST. 

tives,  that  he  was  an  enthusiast,  acting  without  a  rational  aim. 
The  same  feeling  broke  out  a  little  later,  when  his  brethren 
again  interfered  with  him :  "  Go  into  Judaea,  that  thy  disciples 
also  may  see  the  works  that  thou  doest.  For  there  is  no  man 
that  doeth  anything  in  secret,  and  he  himself  seeketh  to  be 
known  openly.  If  thou  do  these  things"  (i.  e.  if  there  is  no 
deceit  in  these  miracles,  and  they  are  Avhat  they  seem  to  be), 
"  show  thyself  to  the  world."      (Jolin  vii.  3,  4.) 

That  a  feeling  of  secret  and  growing  dissatisfaction  existed, 
there  can  hardly  be  a  douljt.  Nor  are  we  to  leave  out  of  con- 
sideration the  working  of  another  thing,  the  failure  of  Jesus 
to  convince  or  win  the  educated  and  religious  portion  of  the 
community.  It  would  be  said,  and  felt  far  more  often  than  said, 
"This  man  has  the  art  of  stirring  up  the  ignorant  crowd;  but 
what  does  it  all  amount  to  ?  They  gather  to-day,  and  are  gone 
to-morrow.  He  comes  down  on  the  people  like  a  gust  of  wind 
upon  yonder  sea.  The  waves  roll,  the  whole  sea  is  alive ;  but 
in  an  hour  the  wind  is  down,  and  the  lake  is  just  as  it  was 
before.  It  is  only  a  momentary  exciteihent  among  ignorant 
men.  He  makes  no  head  with  those  Avho  are  intelligent.  Why 
don't  he  convince  those  whose  business  it  is  to  study  the 
truth  ? " 

To  meet  this  mood,  Jesus  expounds  in  the  parable  of  the  sow- 
er the  nature  of  moral  teaching.  Immediate  results  are  no  test 
of  the  reality  of  the  truth.  The  ncAv  kingdom  is  to  come  by 
growth,  and  not  by  miracle.  Truth,  like  seed,  is  to  be  sown,  sub- 
ject to  all  the  conditions  of  human  nature.  The  worldl}^  cares, 
the  sordid  passions,  have,  as  it  were,  beaten  hard  paths  along  the 
life  of  men.  The  Divine  truth  falls  upon  these  ways  of  self- 
ishness, or  of  avarice,  or  of  hatred  ;  but  there  is  nothing  in 
them  to  grasp  it.  It  lies  like  seed  in  a  trodden  path ;  and  as 
birds  devour  such  seed,  uncovered,  exposed,  before  it  can  hide 
its  roots  or  send  up  a  stem,  so  truth,  falling  on  uncongenial 
minds,  rolls  oft"  or  is  dispersed  and  consumed  by  gadding  and 
hungry  world-thoughts.  Or,  it  may  be  in  the  crowd  that  swarms 
around  the  teachers  are  many  whose  hearts  are  more  kindlj^, 
but  they  lack  force.  The  truth  is  readily  accepted,  but  there 
is  no  deep  moral  nature  into  which  its  roots  may  penetrate. 
Intense  feeling   and   vivid   imagination   flourish   for   a   day,   and 

^ S 


-a 


AROUND    THE  SEA    OF   GALILEE.  319 

then  languish,  perish,  and  disappear.  In  the  case  of  other  na- 
tures, the  truth  finds  a  bed  in  which  to  be  pkmted,  but  one 
where  weeds  also  have  found  root ;  and  as  in  nature  that  which 
spends  its  strength  in  fruit  or  grain  has  not  strength  to  cope 
with  that  which  gives  little  to  its  fruit,  and  spends  all  on  its 
robust  leaves  and  stem,  the  rank  growth  chokes  the  tender 
grain.  A  few  hearts  only  are  hke  good  soil,  well  tended,  capa- 
ble of  developing  the  truth-germ  to  its  full  form. 

Thus  the  moral  teacher  finds  himself  hmited  by  hard  natures 
that  will  not  receive  truth  at  all,  by  vivacious  and  fickle  natures 
that  retain  no  impressions  long,  and  by  strong  natures  preoccu- 
pied with  worldly  interests;  Avhile  he  finds  only  a  few  which 
are  in  condition  to  understand,  entertain,  and  deal  fairly  with 
the  truth.  Hardness,  shallowness,  and  preoccupation  are  per- 
petual hindrances. 

This  parable  of  the  sower  was  an  illustration  of  an  important 
fiict  respecting  the  progress  of  moral  truth ;  but  it  was  also  an 
answer  to  those  who  expected  Jesus  to  bring  in  the  new  king- 
dom by  the  exertion  of  supernatural  forces.  It  gave  the  q\q\\  to 
the  reason  Avhy  no  larger  results  followed  so  great  an  excitement. 
Taken  m  connection  with  the  abundance  of  his  miracles,  it  has 
peculiar  significance.  Jesus  wrought  no  miracle  upon  the  hu- 
man soul.  He  distinctly  marked  the  line  between  the  physical 
realm  and  the  spiritual.  Upon  matter  he  laid  a  hand  of  power ; 
for  that  was  to  treat  it  according  to  its  o^\ti  nature.  The  hu- 
man soul  he  left  to  its  own  freedom,  approaching  it  only  by 
moral  influences;  that  was  to  treat  the  soul  according  to  its 
nature. 

In  no  instance  did  he  seek  to  secure  moral  results  by  direct 
power  By  his  will  he  changed  water  to  wine,  but  never  pride 
to  humility.  He  multiplied  a  few  loaves  into  great  abundance 
of  bread,  but  never  converted  the  slender  stores  of  ignorance 
into  the  riches  of  knowledge.  The  fury  of  the  sea  he  allayed 
by  a  word,  but  the  storms  of  human  passion  he  never  contx'olled 
by  his  irresistible  will.  During  his  whole  career,  there  is  not 
an  instance  in  which  the  two  realms  of  matter  and  of  mind  were 
confounded,  or  their  respective  laws  disregarded.  His  miracles 
were  natural,  and  his  teaching  was  natural.  The  former  man- 
aged  physical    nature  according  to    its  genius,  and  the    latter 


-ff 


^ 


-PL 


320  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

reached  out  to  the  human  soul  according  to  its  pecuhar  con- 
stitution ;  and  both  of  them  are  admirable  illustrations  of  a 
conformity  to  nature,  in  a  sense  far  more  intensive  and  radical 
than  is  usually  attached  to  that  phrase. 

It  is  for  those  who  regard  the  Gospels  as  the  gradual  imfolding 
of  n\vths,  having  perhaps  a  germ  of  fact,  to  explain  how,  in 
earlv  ages,  and  among  ignorant  and  superstitious  men,  this  nice 
distinction  between  the  two  great  realms  of  creation  should 
have  been  invarialjly  maintained.  If  the  Gospels  are  not  a  true 
history  of  a  real  Jesus,  written  by  the  men  whose  names  they 
bear,  but  are  the  product  of  'superstition  gradually  acting 
through  a  long  period,  how  is  it  that  so  fine  an  abstinence 
from  miracles  upon  the  human  soul  should  have  been  observed 
by  men  who  evidently  had  an  eager  appetite  for  wonders,  and 
who  filled  their  history  with  marvels  without  number,  but  al- 
ways miracles  wrought  upon  matter,  and  never  once  upon  the 
spirit  of  man  ? 

It  is  true  that  Jesus  made  way  for  his  spiritual  teaching  by  the 
exercise  of  power  upon  the  infirmities  of  the  l)ody.  But  that 
was  only  a  preparation  for  instruction,  as  ploughing  is  for  seed- 
sowing.  The  furrow  was  opened,  but  the  seed  was  left  to  ger- 
minate by  its  own  nature  and  laws.  This  remarkable  subordi- 
nation of  physical  force  to  moral  influence  pervaded  his  whole 
life  and  ministry.  He  exercised  his  authority  to  forgive  sins, 
but  never  his  power  to  reform  the  sinner.  Diseases  of  the 
body  were  peremptorily  cured ;  but  the  sores  and  fevers  of  the 
soul  could  not  be  arbitrarily  healed.  By  his  coercive  power  he 
often  cast  out  demons ;  but  evil  dispositions,  never.  Between 
the  teaching  of  Jesus  and  that  of  rabbi  or  philosopher  the  dif- 
ference was  that  of  substance,  not  merely  of  method.  He 
addressed  truth  to  the  understanding,  motives  to  the  will,  and 
feeling  to  the  emotions.  Not  only  was  he  patient  with  the  tardy 
results,  but,  in  all  his  ministry,  he  acted  as  one  who  left  his 
cause  to  the  evolution  of  the  ages. 

If  one  will  compare  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  with  the  teach- 
ing in  the  thirteenth  chapter  of  Matthew,  lie  will  see  a  reason 
,  why  the  disciples  should  be  struck  with  his  altered  method, 
and  why  they  should  inquire  from  Jesus  the  rea.son  of  so  large 
a  use  of  the  parable.     The   spirit  of  the   reply  will  be   better 

^ -^ 


a ^ 

AROUND    THE  SEA    OF   GALILEE.  321 

understood,  if  we  consider  it  as  a  statement  of  his  reasons  for 
not  employing  an  open  didactic  method.  The  parable  was, 
under  the  circumstances,  more  likely  to  inspire  curiosity  and 
to  lead  perhaps,  by  and  by,  to  some  knowledge  of  the  truth. 
His  disciples  were  within  the  new  kingdom,  by  virtue  of  their 
sensibility  to  moral  ideas.  They  who  from  conceit  or  lack  of 
feeling  rejected  spiritual  truth  were  "  without."  To  them  there 
could  be  no  instruction,  because  there  was  no  susceptibility  to 
moral  truth.  Words  fell  upon  such  as  seed  upon  a  beaten  path. 
As  there  is  something  in  the  eye  waiting  for  the  light,  and  in  the 
ear  prepared  for  sound,  and  in  the  body  ready  to  digest  and 
assimilate  food,  so  there  must  be  in  the  soul  some  pre-existing 
fitness  for  truth.  Where  the  universal  moral  sense  is  kept 
clear  and  practical,  the  soul  will  increase  in  moral  excellence. 
But  when  it  is  abused,  it  will  lose  sensibility  and  waste  away. 
''  He  answered  and  said  unto  them,  Because  it  is  given  unto  j'ou 
to  know  the  mysteries  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  but  to  them 
it  is  not  given.  For  whosoever  hath,  to  him  shall  be  given, 
and  he  shall  have  more  abundance  :  but  whosoever  hath  not, 
from  him  shall  be  taken  away  even  that  he  hath.  Therefore 
speak  I  to  them  in  parables :  because  they  seeing  see  not ;  and 
hearing  they  hear  not,  neither  do  they  understand." 

In  illustration  of  this  view,  Jesus  quotes  from  Isaiah  (vi.  9)  a 
passage  which,  judged  from  its  face  alone,  would  seem  to  say 
that  Jesus  taught  in  parables  for  the  purpose  of  actively  blind- 
ing those  who  were  '-without,"  and  securing  their  destruction 
by  hiding  the  saving  truth  from  their  minds.  But  this  is  abhor- 
rent to  every  sentiment  of  honor  or  justice,  vitterly  irreconcilable 
with  the  very  errand  of  Jesus  into  the  world,  and  the  direct 
opposite  of  that  disposition  of  pity  and  love  which  he  not  only 
taught,  but  manifested  all  his  hfe  long.  The  true  heart  of  Jesus 
was  expressed  at  a  later  period  in  these  words :  "  How  often 
would  I  have  gathered  thy  children  ....  but  ^/e  would  not." 

A  parable  was  adapted  to  arouse  the  curiosity  of  even  the 
hardened,  and  to  excite  reflection  in  men's  minds,  and  so  ulti-  . 
mately  bring  them  to  the  truth  better  than  wovdd  didactic 
instruction.  Men  will  remember  an  illustration  when  they  would 
forget  a  principle.  The  parable,  so  far  from  being  an  instru- 
ment for  blinding,  was  better  adapted  to  give  hght  than  would 


t^ 


4 


cS— 


-a 


322 


THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 


be  the  unillustratecl  statement  of  spiritual  things.  At  the  same 
time,  it  put  the  truth  in  such  a  form  that  those  who  were  lying 
in  wait  to  catch  Jesus  in  his  words  would  lind  nothing  npon 
which  to  lay  hold. 

The  discourse  of  Jesus  was  not  delivered  to  a  mere  peasant 
audience.  There  were  those  present  capable  of  acute  criticism 
They  had  kept  up  with  the  current  of  Jewish  thought.  They 
would  be  likely  to  say,  "  This  kingdom,  —  this  new  notion  of  a 
kingdom  that  no  one  can  see,  that  has  no  outward  show,  —  pi'ay, 
how  shall  one  know  whether  it  is  present  or  absent  ?  " 

And  he  said,  So  is  the  Idwjdom  of  God,  as  if  a  man  should  cast 
seed  into  the  ground ;  and  should  sleep,  and  rise  night  and  dag,  and  the 
seed  should  spring  and  groio  up,  he  knowcth  not  hmv.  For  the  earth 
bringeth  forth  fruit  of  herscf,  first  the  blade,  then  the  ear,  after  that  the 
full  corn  in  the  ear.  But  when  the  fruit  is  brought  forth,  inimediatelg  he 
putteth  in  the  sickle,  because  the  harvest  is  come. 

The  realm  of  the  disposition  or  heart,  of  which  Paul  says, 
'•The  kingdom  of  God  is  not  meat  and  drink,  but  righteous- 
ness, and  peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost,"  does  not  march 
in  as  armies  do,  but  develops  by  stages  of  evolution,  as  do 
plants.  "Yet  surely,"  they  would  say,  "there  should  be  some 
beginning  to  it!  Is  there  no  starting-point  to  this  mysterious 
kingdom?  It  is  to  be  a  vast,  earth-filling  kingdom,  —  whei-e 
are  its  elements?  Are  there  no  materials  which  show  a  prep- 
aration ?  "     In  reply  to  such  queries. 

Another  parable  put  he  forth,  unto  them,  say- 
ing, The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  like  to  a  grain 
of  mustard-seed,  tvhich  a  man  took,  and  sowed 
in  his  field :  tvhich  indeed  is  the  least  of  all 
seeds :  but  when  it  is  grown,  it  is  the  greatest 
among  herbs,  and  becometh  a  tree,  so  that  the 
birds  of  the  air  come  and  lodge  in  the  brandies 
thereof. 

'•Ah.  it  is  an  influence  then."  they  said. 
"  But  where  is  tlie  working  of  that  in- 
fluence ?  " 

jirsTAHi..  The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  like  unto  leaven, 

which  a  ivoman  took,  and  hid  in  three  measures 
of  meal,  till  the  whole  was  leavened. 


WM 


T 


^ 


a ' 

AROUND    THE  SEA    OF   GALILEE.  323 

It  is  silent  influence.  It  works  within  the  heart.  The  woman 
neither  sees  nor  hears  what  is  going  on  in  the  dough;  yet  in 
the  morning  it  is  leavened.  Thus  the  Divine  influence  is  silent- 
ly working  in  the  souls  of  men. 

"  This  motley  crowd,  is  this  your  kingdom  ?  Are  these  all 
good  men  ?  Ragged,  squalid,  mean,  mixed  of  all  nations,  run- 
nmg  after  you  from  curiosity,  or  in  hope  of  some  gain,  or  for 
an  interested  purpose,  —  do  you  pretend  that  God's  kingdom 
is  made  up  of  such  ?  " 

The  Idngdom  of  heaven  is  like  unto  a  net,  that  ivas  cast  into  the 
sea,  and  (jathered  of  every  Mud :  ivhich,  when  it  tvas  full,  they  drew 
to  shore,  and  sat  doivn,  and  gathered  the  good  itito  vessels,  but  cast  the 
bad  away.  So  shall  it  be  at  the  end  of  the  ivorld :  the  angels  shall  co?7ie 
forth,  and  sever  the  wicked  from  among  the  just,  and  shall  cast  them 
into  the  furnace  of  fire  :  there  shall  be  tvailing  and  gnashing  of  teeth. 

"  At  the  end  of  the  world  ?  That  is  a  long  time  to  wait ! 
Why  do  you  not  select  and  enroll  your  followers  ?  Why  not  at 
once  cast  away  from  you  all  unworthy  persons,  and  register  the 
clearly  good  ?  " 

To  this  Jesus  replies  that  the  thing  cannot  be  done.  The 
church  will  always  have  unworthy  members,  the  kingdom  of 
God  on  earth  will  always  be  rejjresented  by  rude  and  imperfect 
materials  :  — 

Another  parable  put  he  forth  unto  them,  saying.  The  kingdom  of  heaven 
is  likened  unto  a  man  which  sotued  good  seed  in  his  field :  bid  while  men 
slept,  his  enemy  came  and  sowed  tares  among  the  wheat,  and  went  his  way. 
But  ivhen  the  blade  was  sprung  up,  and  brought  forth  fruit,  then  ap- 
peared the  tares  also.  So  the  servants  of  the  householder  came  and  said 
unto  him,  Sir,  didst  not  thou  sow  good  seed  in  thy  field. ^  from  whence 
then  hath  it  tares  ?  He  said  unto  them.  An  enemy  hath  done  this. 
The  servants  said  unio  him,  Wilt  thou  then  that  tve  go  and  gather  them 
up  ?  But  he  said,  Nay ;  lest  while  ye  gather  up  the  tares,  ye  root  up 
also  the  ivheat  with  them.  Let  both  grow  together  until  the  harvest :  and 
in  the  time  of  harvest  I  will  say  to  the  reapers.  Gather  ye  together  first 
the  tares,  and  bind  them  in  bundles  to  burn  them :  but  gather  the  wheat 
into  my  ham. 

While  all  things  are  imperfect,  the  separation  of  good  and 
bad  is  impossible.  When  all  things  are  ripe,  there  will  be  no 
difficulty  in  securing  the  wheat. 

^ ^ 


324  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

Insignificant  and  valueless  as  a  share  in  this  invisible  new 
kingdom  might  seem  to  men  greedy  of  gain  or  inflamed  with 
ambition,  there  was  nothing  in  life  to  compare  with  it.  One 
might  well  give  all  his  time,  his  influence,  and  his  means,  to 
be  possessed  of  it :  — 

The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  like  tinto  treasure  hid  in  a  field ;  ihc  which 
u'hen  a  man  hath  found,  he  hidcth,  and  for  joy  thereof  yocth  and  sell- 
eth  all  that  he  hath,  and  bui/eth  that  field. 

What  are  houses,  lands,  and  money  worth  to  a  heart  stirred  up 
with  discontent?  A  heart  at  peace,  or  overflowing  with  joy, 
can  better  be  without  worldly  goods,  than  have  riches  without 
heart  hajipiness  !  Many  a  man,  outwardly  hard  and  rugged 
as  the  oyster-shell,  cai'ries  within  him  a  pearl  of  exceeding 
worth :  — 

The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  like  unto  a  nicrchant-^nan  seeking  goodly 
pearls :  tvho,  when  he  had  found  one  pearl  of  great  i^rice,  tvent  and 
sold  all  that  lie  had,  and  bought  it. 

It  is  likely  that  not  a  single  person  of  his  audience  gained  a 
clear  idea  of  God's  spirit-kingdom,  but  it  is  still  less  23robable 
that  any  left  the  shore  of  Galilee  that  day  without  the  begin- 
nings of  new  thoughts,  which  from  that  time  forth  began  to 
leaven  their  minds. 

It  is  a  difficult  task  even  now,  after  so  many  hundred  years 
of  experience,  to  expound  to  unknowing  hearts  the  meaning 
of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  so  that  they  shall  comprehend  it.  It 
was  yet  more  difficult  in  the  days  of  the  Son  of  Man.  But, 
with  all  our  progress  in  knowledge,  we  still  go  back  to  these 
parables  of  Jesus  as  the  easiest  and  clearest  expositions  of  his 
kingdom  that  can  be  received,  —  not  through  the  hearing  of 
the  ear,  but  only  by  the  understanding  heart. 

The  Voice  ceased.  The  crowd  disappeared.  The  light  that 
had  sparkled  along  the  waters  and  fired  the  distant  hills  went 
out.  Twilight  came  on ;  the  evening  winds  whispered  among 
the  rustling  reeds,  and  the  ripples  gurgling  upon  the  beach 
answered  them  in  liquid  echoes.  The  boom  of  the  solitary  bit- 
tern came  over  the  waters,  and  now  and  then,  as  darkness  fell 
upon  the  lake,  the  call  of  the  fishermen,  at  their  night-toil.  The 
crowd   dispersed.      The   world  received  its  own  again.      With 

^ ^ 


cB- 


AROUND    THE  SEA    OF   GALILEE. 

the  darkness  came  forgetfulness,  leaving  but  a  faint  memory 
of  the  Voice  or  of  its  teachings,  as  of  a  wind  whisjjering 
among  the  fickle  reeds.  The  enthusiasm  of  the  throng,  like 
the  last  rays  of  the  sun,  died  out;  and  their  hearts,  like  the 
sea,  again  sent  incessant  desires  murmuring  and  complaining 
to  the  shore. 


^ 


SITE   ol'    (JiU'Ei'JCAUJI. 


iB- 


^ 


r- -^==^ 


APPEJ^^DIX. 


THE    GOSPELS    CONSOLIDATED, 


^ 


w 


r 


-a 


INTRODUCTION. 


FORASMUCH  as  many  have  taken  in  hand  to  set  forth  in 
order  a  declaration  of  those  things  which  are  most  surely 
believed  among  us,  even  as  they  delivered  them  unto  us,  which 
from  the  begiuumg  were  eyewitnesses,  and  ministers  of  the 
word ;  it  seemed  good  to  me  also,  having  had  perfect  under- 
standuig  of  all  things  from  the  very  first,  to  write  unto  thee  in 
oi-der,  most  excellent  Theophilus,  that  thou  mightest  know  the 
certainty  of  those  tluugs,  wherein  thou  hast  been  instructed.^ 


^ -ff 


cfi ^ -a 


PEEFACE. 


rriHE  object  of  this  compilation  lias  been  to  consolidate  tbe  matter  of  the 
-*-  four  Gospels  so  as  to  form  it  into  one  continuous  narrative,  and  at  the 
same  time  to  enable  the  reader  to  ascertain  with  facility  the  source  from 
which  each  part  lias  been  derived. 

In  the  construction  of  this  narrative,  every  word  of  each  Gospel  has  been 
incorporated,  except  where  the  same  words  are  found  concurrently  in  more 
than  one  Gospel,  or  where  the  forms  of  concurrent  expressions  are  such  as 
not  to  admit  of  their  coalescing  :  in  the  latter  case  the  words  not  incor- 
porated in  the  text  are  noted  in  the  margin.  In  this  way  every  word 
of  all  the  four  Gospels  will  be  found  eitlier  in  the  text  or  in  the  margin. 

It  has  been  necessary  to  add  certain  words,  and  been  thought  advisable 
to  substitute  others,  in  order  to  preserve  the  sense,  or  the  grammatical  con- 
struction :  the  words  added  and  substituted  are,  liowever,  carefully  noted, 
and  distinguished  from  those  taken  from  the  Gospels. 

The  nature  of  the  compilation  has  made  crudeuess  and  tautology,  in  many 
places,  unavoidable ;  but  these  defects  of  style  have  been  thought  of  less 
moment  than  that  loss  of  authenticity  which  would  necessarily  have 
resulted  from  an  extensive  modification  of  the  text. 

The  verbal  accuracy  of  the  authorized  version  of  the  Gospels  is  assumed, 
and  no  criticism  or  comment  is  attempted. 

The  main  endeavor  has  been,  by  placing  the  Gospel  narrative  before  the 
reader  in  the  form  in  which  other  narratives  are  now  usually  M'ritten,  to 
enable  him,  unconsciously  as  it  were,  to  receive  all  the  information  fur- 
nished by  the  four  Gospels  combined,  without  the  labor  and  distraction  of 
consulting  the  several  Gospels ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  facilitate  refer- 
ence to  the  Gospels  themselves  for  verification  of  the  text. 

The  arbitrary  division  of  the  Scriptures  into  chapters  and  verses  makes 
a  greater  demand  upon  the  attention  of  the  reader  than  does  a  narrative 


c& 


^ 


^ 


■a 


330  PREFACE. 

in  the  usual  form ;  and  the  comparison  of  different  parallel  accounts,  even 
with  the  assistance  of  a  Harmony,  involves  such  additional  concentrated 
attention  as  can  be  looked  for  only  in  the  earnest  biblical  student.  This 
compilation,  it  is  hoped,  will  enable  even  a  casual  reader  to  follow  out  the 
thread  of  the  Gospel  history,  without  effort  or  distraction. 

An  exjilanation  of  the  system  of  arrangement  adopted  is  subjoined,  and 
a  reference  table  is  added,  by  which  it  can  be  ascertained  in  what  part 
of  the  work  the  chapters  and  verses  of  tlie  different  Gcspels  are  incor- 
porated. 

A  full  Index  to  the  Gospel  history  is  also  appended.* 

F.  T.  H. 

South  Hampstkad,  1869. 

*  It  has  been  thought  best  to  quote  the  compiler's  prefatory  explanation  entire,  but 
the  Reference  Tabic  and  Index  mentioned  are  not  included  in  the  present  Appendix  to 
"  The  Life  of  Jesus,  the  Christ." 


^- 


^ 


a ^ ^ 


EXPLA^ATIOIs^. 


t 


THE  figure  0)  in  the  text  indicates  that  the  portion  preceding  it  has  been  taken  from 
St.  Matthew's  Gospel.  In  lilce  manner  the  figures  f),  f),  and(*)  indicate  the  Gos- 
pel from  whicli  the  portions  preceding  them  are  talcen,  (')  indicating  St.  Mark's, 
0  St.  Luke's,  and  («)  St.  John's  Gospel. 

The  figures  Q),  0,  0,  and  (*)  after  the  words  in  the  margin  indicate  in  like  manner  tlie 
Gospels  in  which  such  words  are  found,  in  lieu  of  the  words  to  which  the  notes  of 
reference  are  appended. 

Tlie  figure  (^)  indicates  that  the  words  preceding  it  are  not  found  in  any  of  the  four  Gos- 
pels, but  have  been  either  introduced  or  substituted. 

The  chapters  and  verses  quoted  in  the  margin  show  what  portions  of  each  Gospel  are 
incorporated  in  each  particular  page. 


EXAMPLE. 

CHAPTER    XXII. 

Parables — the  Souvr  —  the  Tares  and  the  Wheat  —  the  Grouing  Seed  Marki^"i-lo''' 

—  the   Grain  of  Mustard  Seed — the  Leaven  —  the  Hid   Treasure  LukeTiii.  4-9. 

—  the  Pearl  of  Great  Price  —  the  Net  and  Fishes. 

THE  same  day  went  Jesus  out  of  the  house,  and  sat  by  the  sea-  « And  when.  3 
side,^  and  he  began  again  to  teach.'^     And"  great  multitudes  great  multitude.  2 
were'  gathered  together  unto  him,' and  were  come  to  him  out  of     "e'l-e.^'"'"''''' 
every  city,^  so  that  he  went  °  into  a  ship,  and  sat '  in  the  sea  :  -  and  '^  ^n'^ed.  '- 

J  -J  ^  r '  '  (I  ^ag  ijy  the  sea 

the  whole  multitude  stood  on  the  shore.''  And  he  spake  many  on  the  land.  2 
things  unto  them,'  and  ^taught  them  ^  in  parables,'  saying'/ unto  ^yT^Jbie^ 
them  in  his  doctrine,^  /and  said.  2 

The  figure  (')  in  the  second  line  indicates  that  all  that  precedes  is  taken  from  St.  Mat- 
thew. 

Tlie  figure  (^)  in  the  same  line  indicates  that  the  words  "  and  he  began  again  to  teach  " 
are  taken  from  St.  Mark. 

The  figure  Q)  in  the  third  line  indicates  that  the  words  "And  great  multitudes  were 
gathered  together  unto  him  "  are  taken  from  St.  Matthew. 

The  figure  f)  in  the  fourth  line  indicates  that  the  words  "  and  were  come  to  him  out  of 
every  city  "  are  taken  from  St.  Luke. 


-ff 


c&- -W 

332  EXPLANATION. 

In  the  same  way  it  -will  be  understood  that  the  words, 

"  so  that  he  went  into  a  ship,  and  sat "  are  from  St.  Matthew. 

"  in  the  sea " ;  "        St.  Mark. 

"  and  tlie  whole  multitude  stood  on  ^ 

the    shore.     And    he   spake  many  >  "        St.  Matthew 

things  unto  them  "  ) 

"  taught  them "  "        St.  Mark. 

"  in  parables,  saying "  "         St.  Matthew. 

"unto  them  in  his  doctrine,"  "         St.  Mark. 

The  figure  (')  in  the  si.xth  line  indicates  that  the  word  "and"  Ls  not  to  be  found  in 

either  Gospel,  but  has  been  introduced. 

Matt.  xm.  i-     .  \  jjjjjg,^  g  ^.jjjjj  these  portions  of  tho.se  pailicular  Go.spels  are  incorpo- 
Mark    iv.     1  - 10.  >  ^  j  ■     ,7.  » 

V      rated  m  that  page. 
Luke  viii.     4-9."  ; 

Note  a,  indicates  that  in  St.  Luke  the  words  "  And  wlien  "  occur  instead  of  the  word 
"  And." 
"     b,  that  in  St.  Mark-the  words  "there  was  a  great  multitude,"  and  that  in  St.  Luke 
the  words  "  much  people  were,"  occur  instead  of  the  words  "  great  multitudes 
were." 
"     c,  that  in  St.  Mark  the  word  "  entered  "  occurs  instead  of  the  word  "  went." 
"     d,  that  in  St.  Mark  the  words  "  was  by  the  sea  on  the  land  "  occur  instead  of  the 

words  "  stood  on  the  shore." 
'•     f,  that  in  St.  Mark  the  words  "by  parables,"  and  in  St.  Luke  the  words  "by  a 

parable,"  occur  instead  of  the  words  "  in  parables." 
"    /,  that  in  St.  Mark  the  words  "  and  said  "  occur  instead  of  the  word  "saying." 


^ ^ 


a- 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTS. 


Chapter 


Paoe 


I.     The  Divinity  of  Jesus  Christ 335 

II.     The  Birth  of  John  the  Baptist  and  the  Birth  of  Jesus  foretold,   and  the 

Meeting  of  Mary  and  Ehsaheth _  335 

III.  Birth  and  Circumcision  of  John  the  Baptist 338 

IV.  Birth  and  Circumcision  of  Jesus  Christ 339 

V.     The  Genealogies  of  Jesus  Christ 34I 

i 

VI.     Tlie  Infancy  of  Jesus  Christ 344  I 

ATI.     The  Preaching  of  John  the  Baptist   .        .        .        .        .        .        .         .  346  [ 

VIII.     The  Baptism  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  Iiis  Temptation 348  j 

IX.     The  Testimony  of  John  the  Baptist  to  Jesus,  and  the  Calling  of  the  first  Dis-  I 

ciples 349  ] 

X.     The  Marriage  at  Cana.  —  Journey  to  Jerusalem.  —  The  Casting  out  of  the 

Traders  from  the  Temple 351 

XL     Jesus  and  Nicodemus.  —  Further  Testimony  of  the  Baptist       .         .        .  352 

XII.     Imprisonment  of  John  the  Baptist,  —  Return  of  Jesus  to  Galilee.  —  Inter- 
view with  the  Woman  of  Samaria 354  I 

XIII.  The  Preaching  of  Jesus  in  Galilee.  —  Several  Mu-acles.  —  Calling  of  several 
Disciples 357  j 

[ 

XIV.  Healing  of  a  Leper,  and  of  a  ParaMic 360 

XV.     Healing  of  a  Man  on  the  Sabbath,  and  consequent  Discussion       .        .         .  362 

XVI.  Christ's   Teaching   a-s   to   the   Sabbath.  —  The    Ordination   of  the   Twelve  j 
Apostles 364 

XVII.  The  Sermon  on  the  Mount 307 

i i 


f 


a 

334  TABLE    OF   CONTENTS. 

XVIII.     The  Healing  of  tlic  Centurion's  Servant,  ami  the  Raising  of  the  Widow's 

Son  at  Nain .372 

XIX.  Jesus  and  the  Disciples  of  John  Baptist.  —  Jesus'  Testimony  of  John  Bap- 
tist,—  his  Condemnation  of  the  unbelieving  Cities. —  Jesus  anointed  by 
a  AVoman  at  a  Pharisee's  House 374 

XX.  Another  Circuit  through  Galilee.  —  Dcrfunciation  of  the  Scribes  and 
Pharisees  on  the  Occasion  of  a  Devil  being  cast  out,  and  of  a  Dinner 
at  a  Pharisee's  House      ..........     376 


l^ ^ 


a- 


^ 


THE 


GOSPEL    HISTORY. 


CHAPTER   I. 

The  Divinity  of  Jesus  Christ 


T 


IHE  beginning  of  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  God  ^  Marbi.  i. 

T      , .        ,        .       .  .       —  "      John  i.  1-5, 


4 


In  the  beginniug  was  the  Word,  and  the  Word  was  with  God,  "'"""le-i's 
and  the  Word  was  God.  The  same  was  iu  the  beginning  with  God. 
All  things  were  made  by  him ;  and  without  him  was  not  anything 
made  that  was  made.  In  him  was  life  ;  and  the  life  was  the  light 
of  men.  And  the  light  shineth  in  darkness;  and  the  darkn'ess 
comprehended  it  not.* 

He'«  was  the  true  Light,  which  lighteth  every  man  that  cometh  <.That.« 
into  the  world.  He  was  in  the  world,  and  the  world  was  made 
by  him,  and  the  world  knew  him  not.  He  came  unto  his  own,  and 
his  own  received  him  not.  But  as  many  as  received  him,  to  them 
gave  he  power  to  become  the  sons  of  God,  even  to  them  that  be- 
lieve on  his  name  :  which  were  born,  not  of  blood,  nor  of  the  will 
of  the  flesh,  nor  of  the  will  of  man,  but  of  God.  And  the  Word 
was  made  flesh,  and  dwelt  among  us,  (and  we  beheld  his  glory,  the 
glory  as  of  the  only  begotten  of  the  Father,)  full  of  grace  and 
truth.*  And  of  his  fulness  have  all  we  received,  and  grace  for  grace. 
For  the  law  was  given  by  Moses,  but  grace  and  truth  came  by  Jesus 
Christ.  No  man  hath  seen  God  at  any  time;  the  only  begotten 
Son,  which  is  in  the  bosom  of  the  Father,  he  hath  declared  him." 


CHAPTER    II. 

The  BiHh  of  John  the  Baptist  and  the  Birth  of  Jestcs  foretold,  and 
the  Meeting  of  Mary  and  Elisabeth. 

n^HERE  was  a  man  sent  from  God,  whose  name  was  John.     The   '"^^ 
-L    same  came  for  a  witness,  to  bear  witness  of  the  Light,  that  all 
meu  through  him  might  believe.     He  was  not  that  Light,  but  was* 


-ff 


cp- ^ 

336  THE   GOSPELS   CONSOLIDATED. 

Luke  i.  5  -  aj.       ggy,(;  ^(j  bear  witness  of  that  Light.'*      John   bare   witness  of  him, 

John  1.  8, 15.  ^  ' 

—  and  cried,  saying,   "  This  was  he  of  whom  I  spake.  He  that  conieth 

after  me  is  preferred  bef(jre  me  :  for  he  was  before  me."* 

There  was  iu  the  daj-s  of  Herod,  the  king  of  Judaea,  a  certain 
priost  named  Zacliarias,  of  the  course  of  Abia :  and  his  wife  was  of 
the  daughters  of  Aaron,  and  her  name  was  Ehsabeth.  And  they 
were  both  righteous  before  God,  walking  in  all  the  commandments 
and  ordinances  of  the  Lord  blameless.  And  they  had  no  child, 
because  that  Elisabeth  was  barren,  and  they  both  were  now  well 
stricken  in  years. 

And  it  came  to  pass,  that  while  he  e.xecuted  the  priest's  office 
before  God  in  the  order  of  his  course,  according  to  the  custom  of  the 
priest's  office,  his  lot  was  to  burn  iucense  when  he  went  into  the 
temple  of  the  Lord.  And  the  whole  multitude  of  the  people  were 
praying  without  at  the  time  of  incense.  And  there  appeared  unto 
him  an  angel  of  the  Lord  standing  on  the  right  side  of  the  altar 
of  incense.  And  when  Zacharias  saw  him,  he  was  troubled,  and  fear 
fell  upon  him. 

But  the  angel  said  unto  him, 

"  Fear  not,  Zacharias :  for  thy  prayer  is  heard ;  and  thy  wife 
Elisabeth  shall  bear  thee  a  son,  and  thou  shalt  call  his  name  '  John.' 
And  thou  shalt  have  joy  and  gladness ;  and  many  shall  rejoice  at 
his  birth.  For  he  shall  be  great  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord,  and 
shall  drink  neither  wine  nor  strong  drink ;  and  he  shall  be  filled 
with  the  Holy  Ghost,  even  from  his  mother's  womb.  And  many 
of  the  children  of  Israel  shall  he  turn  to  the  Lord  their  God.  And 
aEiiM.a  he  shall  go  before  him  in  the  spirit  and  power  of  Elijah,^"  to  turn 

the  hearts  of  the  fathers  to  the  children,  and  the  disobedient  to 
the  wisdom  of  the  just ;  to  make  ready  a  people  prepared  for  the 
Lord." 

And  Zacharias  said  unto  the  angel, 

"  Whereby  shall  I  know  this  %  for  I  am  an  old  man,  and  my  wife 
well  stricken  in  years." 

And  the  angel  answering  said  unto  him, 

"  I  am  Gabriel,  that  stand  in  the  presence  of  God ;  and  am  sent 
to  speak  unto  thee,  and  to  shew  thee  these  glad  tidings.  And, 
behold,  thou  shalt  be  dumb,  and  not  able  to  speak,  until  the  day 
that  these  things  shall  be  performed,  because  thou  believest  not 
my  words,  which  shall  be  fulfilled  in  their  season." 

And  the  people  waited  for  Zacharias,  and  marvelled  that  he  tar- 
ried so  long  in  the  temple.  And  when  he  came  out,  he  could  not 
speak  unto  them  :  and  they  perceived  that  he  had  seen  a  vision  in 
the  temple  :  for  he  beckoned  unto  them,  and  remained  speechless. 

And  it  came  to  pass,  that,  as  soon  as  the  days  of  his  ministra- 
tion were  accomplished,  he  departed  to  his  own  house. 

And  after  those  days  his  wife  Elisabeth  conceived,  and  hid  her- 
self five  months,  saying,' 

^ S 


c& 


MART.  — ELISABETH.  337 

"Thus  hath  the  Lord  dealt  with  me  in  the  days  wherein  he  looked   Luke  i.  25  43. 
on  me,  to  take  away  my  reproach  among  men." 

And  in  the  sixth  month  the  angel  Gabriel  was  sent  from  God  unto 
a  city  of  Galilee,  named  Nazareth,  to  a  virgin  espoused  to  a  man  whose 
name  was  Joseph,  of  the  house  of  David ;  and  the  virgin's  name  was 
Mary. 

And  the  angel  came  in  unto  her,  and  said, 

"  Hail,  thou  that  art  highly  favored,  the  Lord  is  with  thee  :  blessed 
art  thou  among  women." 

And  when  she  saw  him,  she  was  troubled  at  his  saying,  and  cast 
in  her  mind  what  manner  of  salutation  this  should  be. 

And  the  angel  said  unto  her, 

"Fear  not,  Mary  :  for  thou  hast  found  favor  with  God.  And,  be- 
hold, thou  shalt  conceive  in  thy  womb,  and  bring  forth  a  son,  and 
shalt  call  his  name  'Jesus.'  He  shall  be  gi'eat,  and  shall  be  called 
the  Son  of  the  Highest :  and  the  Lord  God  shall  give  unto  him  the 
throne  of  his  father  David  :  and  he  shall  reign  over  the  house  of 
Jacob  forever ;  and  of  his  kingdom  there  shall  be  no  end." 

Then  said  Mary  unto  the  angel, 

"  How  shall  this  be,  seeing  I  know  not  a  man  1 " 

And  the  angd  answered  and  said  unto  her, 

"  The  Holy  Ghost  shall  come  upon  thee,  and  the  power  of  the 
Highest  shall  overshadow  thee  :  therefore  also  that  holy  thing  which 
shall  be  born  of  thee  shall  be  called  the  Son  of  God.  And,  behold, 
thy  cousin  Elisabeth,  she  hath  also  conceived  a  son  in  her  old  age  : 
and  this  is  the  sixth  month  with  her,  who  was  called  barren.  For 
with  God  nothing  shall  be  impossible." 

And  Mary  said, 

"  Behold  the  handmaid  of  the  Lord ;  be  it  unto  me  according  to 
thy  word." 

And  the  angel  departed  from  her. 

And  Mary  arose  in  those  days,  and  went  into  the  hill  country  with 
haste,  into  a  city  of  Judah  j^"  and  entered  into  the  house  of  Zach-  n  juda  3 
arias,  and  saluted  Elisabeth.  And  it  came  to  pass,  that,  when  Elisa- 
beth heard  the  salutation  of  Marj',  the  babe  leaped  in  her  womb ; 
and  Elisabeth  was  filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost :  and  she  spake  out 
with  a  loud  voice,  and  said, 

"  Blessed  art  thou  among  women,  and  blessed  is  the  fruit  of  thy 
womb.  And  whence  is  this  to  me,  that  the  mother  of  my  Lord 
shoiild  come  to  me?  for,  lo,  as  soon  as  the  voice  of  thy  salutation 
sounded  in  mine  ears,  the  babe  leaped  in  my  womb  for  joy.  And 
blessed  is  she  that  believed  :  for  there  shall  be  a  performance  of 
those  things  which  were  told  her  from  the  Lord." 

And  Mary  said, 

"My  soul  doth  magnify  the  Lord,  and  my  spirit  hath  rejoiced 
in  God  my  Saviour.  For  he  hath  regarded  the  low  estate  of  his 
handmaiden  :  for,  behold,  from  henceforth  all  generations  shall  call  * 


^ 


iB- 


4 


f 


■a 


338  THE   GOSPELS   CONSOLIDATED. 

Lukei.  48-56.  ^g  blcssed.  For  he  that  is  mighty  hath  done  to  ine  great  things  ; 
and  holy  is  his  name.  And  his  mercy  is  on  them  that  fear  him 
from  generation  to  generation.  He  hath  shewed  strength  with  his 
arm  ;  he  hath  scattered  the  proud  in  the  imagination  of  their 
hearts.  He  hath  put  down  the  mighty  from  their  seats,  and  exalted 
them  of  low  degi'ee.  He  hath  filled  the  hungry  with  good  things ; 
and  the  rich  he  hath  sent  empty  away.  He  hath  holpen  his  ser- 
vant Israel,  in  remembrance  of  his  mercy;  as  he  spake  to  our  fathers, 
to  Abraham,  and  to  his  seed  for  ever." 

And  Mary  abode  with  her  about  three  months,  and  returned  to 
her  own  house.' 


CHAPTER    III. 

Birth  and  Circumcision  of  John  the  Baptist. 

Lukei  57-73.  ~^T~0^^'  Elisabeth's  full  time  came  that  she  should  be  delivered ; 
-^^  and  she  brought  forth  a  son.  And  her  neighbors  and  her 
cousins  heard  how  the  Lord  had  shewed  great  mercy  upon  her ;  and 
they  rejoiced  with  her. 

And  it  came  to  pass,  that  on  the  eighth  day  they  came  to  circum- 
cise the  child ;  and  they  called  him  Zacharias,  after  the  name  of 
bis  father. 

And  his  mother  answered  and  said, 

"  Not  so  ;  but  he  shall  be  called  '  John.'  " 

And  they  said  unto  her, 

"  There  is  none  of  thy  kindred  that  is  called  by  this  name." 

And  they  made  signs  to  his  father,  how  he  would  have  him  called. 
And  he  asked  for  a  writing-table,  and  wrote,  saying, 

"  His  name  is  John." 

And  they  marvelled  all.  And  his  mouth  was  opened  immediately, 
and  his  tongue  loosed,  and  he  spake,  and  praised  God.  And  fear 
came  on  all  that  dwelt  round  about  them :  and  all  these  sayings  were 
noised  abroad  throughout  all  the  hill  country  of  Judoea.  And  all 
they  that  heard  them  laid  them  up  in  their  hearts,  saying, 

"  What  manner  of  child  shall  this  be  !  " 

And  the  hand  of  the  Lord  was  with  him. 

And  his  father  Zacharias  was  filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost,  and 
prophesied,  sajing, 

"  Blessed  be  the  Lord  God  of  Israel  ;  for  he  hath  visited  and  re- 
<iiui.»  deemed  his  people,  and  hath  raised  up°  a^"  horn  of  salvation  for  us 

in  the  house  of  his  servant  David ;  as  he  spake  by  the  mouth  of  his 
holy  prophets,  which  have  been  since  the  world  began :  that  we 
should  be  saved  from  our  enemies,  and  fi-om  the  hand  of  all  that 
hate  us  ;  to  perform  the  mercy  promised  to  our  fathers,  and  to  re- 
member his  holy  covenant ;  the  oath  which  he  sware  to  our  father ' 

^ ^ 


^ -a 

BIRTH  OF   CHRIST.  339 

Abraham,  That  he  would  grant  unto  us,  that  we  heing  dehvered  out   Lukei.  73-80. 
of  the  hand  of  our  enemies  might  serve  him  without  fear,  in  holiness 
and  righteousness  before  him,  all  the  days  of  our  life. 

"  And  thou,  child,  shalt  be  called  the  prophet  of  the  Highest :  for 
thou  shalt  go  before  the  face  of  the  Lord  to  prepai-e  his  ways ;  to 
give  knowledge  of  salvation  unto  his  people  by  the  remission  of  their 
sins,  through  the  tender  mercy  of  our  God ;  whereby  the  dayspring 
from  on  high  hath  visited  us,  to  give  light  to  them  that  sit  in  dark- 
ness and  in  the  shadow  of  death,  to  guide  our  feet  into  the  way  of 
peace." 

And  the  child  gi-ew,  and  waxed  strong  in  spirit,  aud  was  in  the 
deserts  till  the  day  of  his  shewing  unto  Israel.' 


CHAPTER    IV. 
Birth  and  Circumcision  of  Jesus  Christ. 
"VTOW  the  birth  of  Jesus  Christ  was  on  this  wise  :  p,"-.vy-2o- 

X^  Luke  u.  1-6. 

-1-^       When  as  his  mother  Mary  was  espoused  to  Joseph,  before  — 

they  came  together,  she  was  found  with  child  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
Then  Joseph  her  husband,  being  a  just  man,  and  not  willing  to  make 
her  a  public  example,  was  minded  to  put  her  away  privily.  But 
while  he  thought  on  these  things,  behold,  the  angel  of  the  Lord 
appeared  unto  him  in  a  dream,  saying, 

"  Joseph,  thou  son  of  David,  fear  not  to  take  unto  thee  Mary  thy 
wife  :  for  that  which  is  conceived  in  her  is  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  And 
she  shall  bring  forth  a  son,  and  thou  shalt  call  his  name  'Jesus,' 
for  he  shall  save  his  people  from  their  sins." 

Now  all  this  was  done,  that  it  might  be  fulfilled  which  was  spoken 
of  the  Lord  by  the  prophet,  saying, 

"  Behold,  a  virgin  shall  be  with  child,  and  shall  bring  forth  a  son. 
And  they  shall  call  his  name  Emmanuel,"  "  (which  being  interpreted  is  "God    a  isajah  vii  It 
with  us.") 

Then  Joseph  being  raised  from  sleep  did  as  the  angel  of  the  Lord 
had  bidden  him,  and  took  unto  him  his  wife  :  and  knew  her  not  tiU 
she  had  brought  forth  her  first-born  son.^ 

And  it  came  to  pass  in  those  days,  that  there  went  out  a  decree 
from  CoDsar  Augustus,  that  all  the  world  should  be  taxed.  (And 
this  taxing  was  first  made  when  Cj-renius  was  governor  of  SyTia.) 
And  all  went  to  be  taxed,  every  one  into  his  own  city.  And  Joseph 
also  went  up  from  Galilee,  out  of  the  city  of  Nazareth,  into  Judsea, 
unto  the  city  of  David,  which  is  called  Bethlehem  ;  (because  he  was 
of  the  house  and  lineage  of  David  : )  to  be  taxed  with  Mary  his 
espoused  wife,  being  great  with  child. 

And  so  it  was,  that,  while  they  were  there,  the  days  were  accom- ' 


--ff 


-^ 

340  THE   GOSPELS   CONSOLIDATED. 

Luke  ii^- 29.  plished  that  she  should  be  delivered.  And  she  brought  forth  her 
first-born  son,  and  wrapped  him  in  swaddling  clothes,  and  laid  him 
in  a  manger ;  because  there  was  no  room  for  them  in  the  inn. 

And  there  were  in  the  same  country  shepherds  abiding  in  the 
field,  keeping  watch  over  their  flock  by  night.  And,  lo,  the  angel  of 
the  Lord  came  upon  them,  and  the  glory  of  the  Lord  shone  round 
about  them  :  and  they  were  sore  afraid.  And  the  angel  said  unto 
them, 

"  Fear  not :  for,  behold,  I  bring  you  good  tidings  of  great  joy, 
which  shall  be  to  all  people.  For  unto  you  is  born  this  day  in  the 
city  of  David  a  Saviour,  which  is  Christ  the  Lord.  And  this  shall 
be  a  sign  unto  you ;  Ye  shall  find  the  babe  wrapped  in  swaddling 
clothes,  lying  in  a  manger." 

And  suddenly  there  was  with  the  angel  a  multitude  of  the  heav- 
enly host  praising  God,  and  saying, 

"  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace,  good-will  to- 
ward men." 

And  it  came  to  pass,  as  the  angels  were  gone  away  from  them 
into  heaven,  the  shepherds  said  one  to  another,  - 

"  Let  us  now  go  even  unto  Bethlehem,  and  see  this  thing  which 
is  come  to  pass,  which  the  Lord  hath  made  known  unto  us." 

And  they  came  with  haste,  and  found  Marj-,  and  Joseph,  and  the 
babe  lying  in  a  manger.  And  when  they  had  seen  it,  they  made 
known  abroad  the  saying  which  was  told  them  concerning  this  child. 
And  all  they  that  heard  it  wondered  ut  those  things  which  were  told 
them  by  the  shepherds.  But  Mary  kept  all  these  things,  and  pon- 
dered them  in  her  heart. 

And  the  shepherds  returned,  glorifying  and  praising  God  for  all 
the  things  that  they  had  heard  and  seen,  as  it  was  told  unto  them. 

And  when  eight  days  were  accomplished  for  the  circumcising  of 
'  j!riiia"Ms'  ^^^  child,  his  name  was  called  "  "  Jesus,"  which  was  so  named  of 
°^™'='  the  angel   before  he  was  conceived  in  the  womb.     And  when  the 

days  of  her  piu-ification  according  to  the  law  of  Moses  were  accom- 
plished, they  brought  him  to  Jerusalem,  to  present  him  to  the  Lord  ; 
(as  it  is  written  in  the  law  of  the  Lord,  "  Every  male  that  openeth 
the  womb  shall  be  called  holy  to  the  Lord  " ; )  and  to  offer  a  sacri- 
fice according  to  that  which  is  said  in  the  law  of  the  Lord,  "  A  pair 
of  turtledoves,  or  two  young  pigeons." 

And,  behold,  there  was  a  man  in  Jerusalem,  whose  name  was 
Simeon  ;  and  the  same  man  was  just  and  devout,  waiting  for  the 
consolation  of  Israel :  and  the  Holy  Ghost  was  upon  him.  And  it 
was  revealed  unto  him  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  he  should  not  see 
death,  before  he  had  seen  the  Lord's  Christ.  And  he  came  by  the 
Spirit  into  the  temple  :  and  when  the  parents  brought  in  the  child 
Jesus,  to  do  for  him  after  the  custom  of  the  law,  then  took  he  him 
up  in  his  arms,  and  blessed  God,  and  said, 

"Lord,  now  lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart  in  peace,  according^ 

^ ^ i 


f 


■ —a 

SIMEOX.  —  ANNA.  —  GENEAL  0  GIES.  341 

to  thy  word  :  for  mine  ej-es  have  seen  thy  salvation,  which  thou  hast   Luke  u.  29-39. 
prepared  before  the  face  of  all  people ;  a  light  to  lighten  the  GentUes, 
and  the  glory  of  thy  people  Israel." 

And  Joseph  and  his  mother  marvelled  at  those  things  which  were 
spoken  of  him. 

And  Simeon  blessed  them,  and  said  unto  Mary  his  mother, 

"  Behold,  this  child  is  set  for  the  fall  and  rising  again  of  many  in 
Israel ;  and  for  a  sign  which  shall  he  spoken  against ;  (yea,  a  sword 
shall  pierce  through  thy  own  soul  also),  that  the  thoughts  of  many 
hearts  may  be  revealed." 

And  there  was  one  Anna,  a  prophetess,  the  daughter  of  Phanuel, 
of  the  tribe  of*  Asher:"^  she  was  of  a  great  age,  and  had  lived  oAser.s 
with*  a'  husband  seven  years  from  her  virginity  ;  and  she  was  a  ban.3 
widow  of  about  fourscore  and  four  years,  which  departed  not  from 
the  temple,  but  served  God  with  fastings  and  prayers  night  and  day. 
And  she  coming  in  that  instant  gave  thanks  likewise  unto  the  Loi'd, 
and  spake  of  him  to  all  them  that  looked  for  redemption  in  Je- 
rusalem. 

And  '  they  ' '  performed   all  things  according  to  the  law  of  the   "^  And  when  they 
Lord.* 


CHAPTER    V. 

The  Genealogies  of  Jesus  Christ, 


T 


HE  book  of  the  generation  of  Jesus  Christ.''  Matt.  i.  1-8. 

The  son  of  David. 

The  son  of  Abraham. 
Abraham  begat  Isaac  ;  and 
Isaac  begat  Jacob  ;  and 

Jacob  begat  *  Judah  '  "^  and  his  brethren  ;  and  *  <?  judas.  i 
Judah  5  ■*  begat  *  Pharez  ^'  and  *  Zarah  ^/  of*  Tamar  /f  and  *  «  Phares.i 

Phares ' '  begat »  Hezron  ;  ^ «  and  *  -^  Tham'ar.. 

Hezron  '  *  begat  *  Ram  ;  ^ '  and  *  *  Eerom.i 

Ram  ^ '  begat  *  Amminadab  ;  ^  *  and  *  '  a™™-  ' 

Amminadab  ^  *  begat  *  Nahshon  ; ' '  and  *  ;  Naasson.  i ' 
Nahshon  ^ '  begat  Salmon  ;  and 

Salmon  begat  *  Boaz  ^ ""  of  Rahab  :  ^  "  and  ^  "  """^  ' 

n  itachab.  i 

Boaz**"  begat  Obed  of  Ruth  ;  and 

Obed  begat  Jesse  ;  and 

Jesse  begat  David  the  king  ;  and 

David  the  king  begat  Solomon  of  her  that  had  been  the  wife 

of  Uriah  ; '  "  and  o  urias.i 

Solomon  begat '  Rehoboam  ;  ^P  and  '  p  Koboam.i 

Rehoboam  ^  i  begat '  Abijah  ;  *  ■■  and  * 
Abijah  ^  "■  begat  Asa  ;  and 


g  Roboam .  ^ 


IB -4 


a-- 


342 


-a 


THE    GOSPELS   CONSOLIDATED. 


Matt-  i.  8-17. 
Mark  i.  1. 
Luke  iii.  23-26. 

a  Josaphat.  1 
h  Joram.  1 

ft  Joatbam.  ^ 
e  Achaz.  1 
/Ezi-kias.l 

17  ManasseB.  1 


^  Josias.  1 
'  Jecbonias.  1 


Asa  begat '  Jehoshaphat ;  ^ "  and  ' 

Jehosliaphat  ^  °  begat  *  Jehoram  ;  ^  '  and  ' 

Jehoram  ^  '  begat '  Uzziah  ;  ^  "^  and  * 

Uzziali  ^  "^  begat '  Jotham  ; ' ''  and  * 

Jotham  ^  ■*  begat '  Ahaz  ;  ° '  and  ^ 

Ahaz  ' '  begat '  Hezekiah  ;  ^/  and  * 

Hezekiah  °/  begat  ^  Manasseh  ;  °  f  and  ' 

Manasseh  ^  f  begat  Anion  ;  and 

Anion  begat '  Josiah  ;  ^  *  and  ' 

Josiah  *  *  begat  *  Jeconiah  '  '  and  his  brethren, 

About  the  time  they  were  carried  away  to  Babylon; 
And  after  tliey  were  brought  to  Babylon,  ^ 

Jeconiah  * '  begat  Salathiel ;  and 

Salathiel  begat  >  Zerubbabel ;  ^  *  and  ^ 

Zerubbabel  ^  *  begat  Abiud  ;  and 

Abiud  begat  Eliakim  ;  and 

Eliakini  begat  Azor  ;  and 

Azor  begat  Sadoc  ;  and 

Sadoc  begat  Achim  ;  and 

Achim  begat  Eliud ;  and 

Eliud  begat  Eleazar  ;  and 

Eleazar  begat  Mattban  ;  and 

Matthan  begat  Jacob ;  and 

Jacob  begat 

Joseph  the  husband  of  Mar}%  of  whom  was  bom 
Jesus  who  is  called  Christ. 
So  all  the  generations  from  Abraham  to  David  are  fourteen  gen- 
erations; and  from  David  until  the  carrying  away  into  Babylon  are 
fourteen   generations ;    and  from   the  carrying  away  into   Babylon 
unto  Christ  are  fourteen  generations.' 
Jesus  Christ  the  Son  of  GOD.^ 

Jesus  '  being  (as  was  supposed)  the  son  of 

Joseph,  which  was  the  son  of 

Heli,  which  was  the  son  of 

Matthat,  which  was  the  son  of 

Levi,  which  was  the  son  of 

Melchi,  which  was  the  son  of 

Janna,  which  was  the  son  of 

Joseph,  which  was  the  son  of 

Mattathias,  which  was  the  son  of 

Amos,  which  was  the  son  of 

Naiim,  which  was  the  son  of 

Esli,  which  was  the  son  of 

Nagge,  which  was  the  son  of 

Maath,  which  was  the  son  of 

Mattathias,  which  was  the  son  of 

Semei,  which  was  the  son  of 


^- 


-ff 


p 


■a 


GENEALOGIES.  343 

Joseph,  which  was  the  son  of  Luke  m.  26-36. 

Juda,  which  was  the  son  of 

Joanna,  which  was  the  son  of 

Rhesa,  which  was  the  son  of 

Zenibbabel,^"  which  was  the  son  of  »Zorobabei  3 

Salathiel,  which  was  the  son  of 

Neri,  which  was  the  son  of 

Melchi,  which  was  the  son  of 

Addi,  which  was  the  son  of 

Cosam,  which  was  the  son  of 

Elmodain,  which  was  the  son  of 

Er,  which  was  the  son  of 

Jose,  which  was  the  son  of 

Eliezer,  which  was  the  son  of 

Jorira,  which  was  the  son  of 

Matthat,  which  was  the  son  of 

Levi,  which  was  the  son  of 

Simeon,  which  was  the  sou  of 

Juda,  which  was  the  son  of 

Joseph,  which  was  the  son  of 

Jonan,  which  was  the  son  of 

Eliakim,  which  was  the  son  of 

Melea,  which  was  the  son  of 

Menan,  which  was  the  son  of 

ilattatha,  which  was  the  son  of 

Nathan,  which  was  the  son  of 

David,  which  was  the  son  of 

Jesse,  which  was  the  son  of 

Obed,  which  was  the  son  of 

Boaz,^ '  which  was  the  son  of  1,  boot  » 

Salmon,  which  was  the  son  of' 

Nahshon,^'^  which  was  the  sou  of 

Amminadab,^''  which  was  the  son  of' 

Ram,^'  which  was  the  son  of 

Hezron,'/  which  was  the  son  of 

Pharez,**'  which  was  the  son  of* 

Judah,**  wliich  was  the  son  of  « juda.a 

Jacob,  which  was  the  son  of 

Isaac,  which  was  the  sou  of 

Abraham,  which  was  the  son  of* 

Terah,^'  which  was  the  sou  of  iThara.  a 

Nahor,^'^  which  was  the  sou  of  *  Nachor 

Serug,^'  which  was  the  son  of  'Saruch. 

Reu,'""  which  was  the  sou  of  "'  Ragau. 

Peleg,°  "  wliich  was  the  son  of  "  Phaiec 

Tliber,*"  which  was  the  sou  of^  oUeber.  a 

Shelah,^i'  which  was  the  sou  of  pSaia.  3 

^ ^ 


fi  AmiDadab  3 
«  Aram  3 

(/  Phares.3 


[fl- 


344 


THE   GOSPELS   CONSOLIDATED. 


-a 


Cainan,  which  was  the  sou  of 
Arphaxad,  which  was  the  sou  of  ^ 
Shom,^ "  which  was  the  sou  of  ^ 
Noah,^ '  which  was  the  son  of 
Lamech,  which  was  the  son  of 
Methusehih,^ '  which  was  the  son  of 
Enoch,  which  was  the  son  of 
Jared,  which  was  the  son  of 
Mahalaleel,^  "^  which  was  the  son  of 
Cainau,  which  was  the  sou  of 
Enos,  which  was  the  son  of 
Seth,  which  was  the  son  of 
Adam,  whicli  was  the  son  of 
GOD.' 


CHAPTER    VI. 


t 


The  Infancy  of  Jemis  Christ. 

"VTOW  Then  Jesus  was  bom  in  Bethlehem  of  Jndfea  in  the  days 
-^^  of  Herod  the  king,  behold,  there  came  wise  men  from  the  east 
to  Jerusalem,  saying, 

"Where  is  he  that  is  born  Kiug  of  the  Jews?  for  we  have  seen 
his  star  in  the  east,  and  are  come  to  worship  him." 

When  Herod  the  king  had  heard  these  things,  he  was  troubled, 
and  all  Jerusalem  with  him.  And  when  he  had  gathered  all  the 
chief  priests  and  scribes  of  the  people  together,  he  demanded  of 
them  where  Christ  should  be  boru. 

And  they  said  unto  him, 

"  In  Bethlehem  of  Judsea  :  for  thus  it  is  written  by  the  prophet, 

"  'And  thou  Bethlehem,  in  the  l.ind  of  .huUih.''^ 
Art  not  the  least  among  the  princes  of '  .Judah  :  ^ ' 
For  out  of  thee  shall  come  a  Governor, 
That  shall  rule  my  people  Israel.'  "■'' 

Then  Herod,  when  he  had  privily  called  the  wise  men,  inquired 
of  them  diligently  what  time  the  star  appeared.  And  he  sent  them 
to  Bethlehem,  and  said, 

"  Go  and  search  diligently  for  the  young  child  ;  and  when  ye  have 
found  him,  bring  me  word  again,  that  I  may  come  and  worship  him 
also." 

When  they  had  heard  the  king,  they  departed  ;  and,  lo,  the  star, 
which  they  saw  in  the  east,  went  before  them,  till  it  came  and  stood 
over  where  the  young  child  was.  When  they  saw  the  star,  they  re- 
joiced with  exceeding  great  joy. 

And  when  they  were  come  iuto  the  house,  they  saw  the  young  ^ 


-ff 


THE  INFANCT  OF  JESUS   CHRIST.  345 

child  -witli  Mary  his  mother,  and  fell  down  and  worshipped  him  :  and   lu^j"  3".'^^- 
when  they  had  opened  their  treasm-es,  they  presented  unto  him  gifts;  — 

gold,  and  frankincense,  and  myrrh.  And  being  warned  of  God  in  a 
dream  that  they  should  not  return  to  Herod,  they  departed  into 
their  own  countiy  another  way. 

And  when  they  were  departed,  behold,  the  angel  of  the  Lord  ap- 
peareth  to  Joseph  in  a  dream,  saying, 

"Arise,  and  take  the  young  child  and  his  mother,  and  flee  into 
Egypt,  and  be  thou  there  until  I  bring  thee  word :  for  Herod  will 
seek  the  young  child  to  destroy  him." 

When  he  arose,  he  took  the  young  child  and  his  mother  by  night, 
and  departed  into  Egypt  :  and  was  there  until  the  death  of  Herod  : 
that  it  might  be  fulfilled  which  was  spoken  of  the  Lord  by  the 
prophet,  saying, 

"Out  of  Egj-pt  hare  I  called  my  sou."  "  a  iiosea  xi.  1. 

Then  Herod,  when  he  saw  that  he  was  mocked  of  the  wise  men, 
was  exceeding  wi-oth,  and  sent  forth,  and  slew  all  the  children  that 
were  in  Bethlehem,  and  in  all  the  coasts  thereof,  from  two  years  old 
and  under,  according  to  the  time  which  he  had  diligently  inquired 
of  the  wise  men.  Then  was  fulfilled  that  which  was  spoken  by ' 
Jeremiah  ^  '  the  prophet,  saying,  ),  Jeremy.  1 

"In  Rama  was  there  a  voice  heard, 
Lamentation,  and  weeping,  and  great  mourning, 
Rachel  weeping  for  her  children,  and  would  not  be  comforted. 
Because  they  are  not."  '  c  .ler.  xxxi.  15. 

But  when  Herod  was  dead,  behold,  an  angel  of  the  Lord  appeareth 
in  a  dream  to  Joseph  in  Egypt,  saying, 

"  Arise,  and  take  the  young  child  and  his  mother,  and  go  into  the 
laud  of  Israel  :  for  they  are  dead  which  sought  the  young  child's 
life." 

And  he  arose,  and  took  the  young  child  and  his  mother,  and  came 
into  the  land  of  Israel.  But  when  he  heard  that  Archelaus  did  reign 
in  Judfea  in  the  room  of  his  father  Herod,  he  was  afraid  to  go 
thither:  notwithstanding,  being  warned  of  God  in  a  dream,'  they'"* 
turned  aside,'  and  ^  returned  '  into  the  parts  of  Galilee  :  and  '  they  ^  "* 
came  and  dwelt  in '«  their  own  city/ Nazareth  :  ^  that  it  might  be  '^"^ 
fulfilled  which  was  spoken  by  the  prophets,  "  He  shall  be  called  a 
Nazarene."'?  uis.  iiii2. 

And  the  child  grew,  and  waxed  strong  in  spirit,  filled  with  wis- 
dom :  and  the  grace  of  God  was  upon  him. 

Now  his  parents  went  to  Jerusalem  every  j'ear  at  the  feast  of  the 
passover.  And  when  he  was  twelve  years  old,  they  went  up  to  Jeru- 
salem after  the  custom  of  the  feast.  And  when  they  had  fulfilled 
the  days,  as  they  returned,  the  child  Jesus  tarried  behind  in  Jerusa- 
lem ;  and  Joseph  and  his  mother  knew  not  of  it.  But  they,  suppos- 
ing him  to  have  been  in  the  compau}',  went  a  day's  journey  ;  and  ^ 

^ ^ 


[& 


346 


--a 


THE    GOSPELS   CONSOLIDATED. 


Lukeih«-52.  ^jjgy  sought  liim  among  their  kinsfolk  and  acquaintance.  And  whea 
they  found  him  not,  they  tiu-ned  back  again  to  Jerusalem,  seeking 
him. 

And  it  came  to  pass,  that  after  three  days  they  found  him  in  the 
temple,  sitting  in  the  midst  of  the  doctors,  both  hearing  them,  and 
asking  them  questions.  And  all  that  heard  him  were  astonished 
at  his  understanding  and  answers.  And  when  they  saw  him,  they 
were  amazed  :  and  his  mother  said  unto  him, 

"Son,  why  hast  thou  thus  dealt  with  us?  behold,  thy  father  and  I 
have  sought  thee  sorrowing." 

And  he  said  unto  them, 

"  How  is  it  that  ye  sought  me?  wist  ye  not  that  I  must  be  about 
my  Father's  business  1 " 

And  they  understood  not  the  saying  which  he  spake  unto  them. 

And  he  went  down  with  them,  and  came  to  Nazareth,  and  was 
subject  unto  them  :  but  his  mother  kept  all  these  sayings  in  her 
heart. 

And  Jesus  increased  in  wisdom  and  stature,  and  in  favor  with  God 
and  man." 


CHAPTER    VII. 


Malt.  iii.  1-3. 
Mark  i.  4. 
Luke  iii.  1-6. 


6  preaching. » 
c  and  saying. 


t 


/ Isaiah  xl.  3-6. 
V  Esaias.i 


The  Preaching  of  John  the  Baptist. 

""^FOW  in  the  fifteenth  year  of  the  reign  of  Tiberius  Caesar," 
-i-^  Pontius  Pilate  being  governor  of  Judrea,  and  Herod  being 
tetrarch  of  Galilee,  and  his  brother  Philip  tetrarch  of  Iturea  and 
of  the  region  of  Trachouitis,  and  Lysauias  the  tetrarch  of  Abilene, 
Annas  and  Caiaphas  being  the  high-priests,  the  word  of  God  came 
unto  John '  the  Bajitist,'  the  son  of  Zacharias,  in  the  wilderness. 
And  he  came  into  all  the  country  about  Jordan,'  and  ^  did  baptize  ' 
in  the  wilderness  of  Judaea,'  and  preach  *"  the  baptism  of  repentance 
for  the  remission  of  sins,'  saying,'' 

"  Repent  j-e  :  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at  hand."  ' 

As  it  is  written  in  the  prophets, 

"  Behold,  I  send  my  messenger  before  thy  face, 
Which  shall  prepare  thy  way  before  thee"  :*'* 

and  ^  in  the  book  of  the  words  of  Isaiah*'  the  prophet,  saying, 

"  The  voice  of  one  crying  in  the  wilderness, 
Prepare  ye  the  way  of  the  Lord, 
Make  his  paths  straight. 
Every  valley  shall  be  filled, 

And  every  mountain  and  hill  shall  be  brought  low  ; 
And  the  crooked  shall  be  made  straight, 
And  tlie  rough  ways  shall  be  made  smooth  ; 
And  all  flesh  shall  see  the  salvation  of  God."  ^J^ 

For  this  is  he  that  was  spoken  of  by  the  prophet '  Isaiah. *«■ 


# 


THE  PREACHING    OF  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST.  Ml 

And  the  same  Jcihn  had  Iiis  raiment  of  camel's  hair,  and  a  leath-  Matt. m. 4-12. 

,,     .        ,  Mark  i.  b~^. 

em  girdle"  about  his  loms ;  and  his  meat  \vas=  locusts  aud   wild  Luke m.  7- 18 

houey.^  owas   clothed 

Then'"*  there  went  out  unto'  him  all  the  land  of  Judaa,  and  they  ^  with  a  girdle  of 
of  Jerusalem,^  and  all  the  region  round  about  Jordan,  and  were'  all  c  held 'It.  a 
baptized  of  him  iu  the  river  of  Jordan,  confessing  their  sins.^  ■'And.  2 

Then  said  he  to  the  multitude  that  came  forth  to  be  baptized  of 
him,^  when/  he  saw  many  of  the  Pharisees  and  Sadducees  come  to   /but when.- 
his  baptism,  s  „  i,p  sjid  unto 

"  O  generation  of  vipers,  who  hath  warned  you  to  flee  from  the 
■wrath  to  come  ?     Bring  forth  therefore  fruits  worthy  of  *  repentance,   ''  ■»«'  f*"-- ' 
and  begin"  not  to  say  within  yourselves,  'We  have  Abraham  to  our  ■  twuk  i 
fttthcr '  :   for  I  say  unto  you,  That  God  is  able  of  these  stones  to 
raise  up  children  unto  Abraham.     And  now  also  the  axe  is  laid 
unto  the  root  of  the  trees  :  every  tree  therefore  which  bringeth  not 
forth  good  fruit  is  hewn  down,  and  cast  into  the  fire." 
And  the  people  asked  him,  saying, 
"  What  shall  we  do  then  1 " 
He  answereth  and  saith  unto  them, 

"  He  that  hath  two  coats,  let  him  impart  to  him  that  hath  none ; 
and  he  that  hath  meat,  let  him  do  likewise." 

Then  came  also  publicans  to  be  baptized,  and  said  unto  him, 
"  Master,  what  shall  we  do  1 " 
And  he  said  unto  them, 

"  E.xact  no  more  than  that  which  is  appointed  you." 
And  the  soldiers  likewise  demanded  of  him,  saying, 
"  And  what  shall  we  do  1 " 
And  he  said  unto  them, 

"  Do  violence  to  no  man,  neither  accuse  any  falsely ;  and  be  con- 
tent with  your  wages." 

And  as  the  people  were  in  expectation,  and  all  men  mused  in 
their  hearts  of  John,  whether  he  were  the  Christ,  or  not ;  John  an- 
swered,*'  saying  unto  them  all,  i- and  preached,  a 

"  I  indeed  baptize'  you  with  water  ^  unto  repentance  :  but^  there   'have  baptized. a 
cometh  one"'  mightier  than  I  after  me,^  the  latchet  of  whose  shoes  I   ">  hethatcometh 
am  not  worthy  to  stoop  down  and  unloose  :  ^ "  he  shall  baptize  you   n'b'ir.  1 
with  the  Holy  Ghost  and  with  fire  :  whose  fan  is  in  his  hand,  aud  he 
will  thoroughly  purge  his  floor,  and  will  gather  the"  wheat  into  his  "his.i 
garner ;  but  the  chaff"  he  will  burn'  up*  with  fire  unquenchable."' 

And  many  other  things  in  his  exhortation  preached  he  unto  the 
people.' 


IB- 


--^ 


[&-- 


-a 


348 


THE    GOSPELS   CONSOLIDATED. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 


Tlie  Baptism  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  his  Temptation. 


.9-13. 

ii.  21,22. 

V.  1,12. 


"And.  2 
h  then.' 
c  Cometh.  1 


d  also  being.  8 
e  coming  up.  s 
/  he  siw  th^'  heav- 


t  thou  art.SJ 

n  tlien.l 

"hy.3 

i'  the  Spirit  driv- 

eth  him.  2 
9  being.  ^ 
»•  the  devil.  8 


'  thi?  stone  that 


X  And.s 
»he.  1 
and. 
2  and  said,  i 
a  Deut.  viii.3. 
fc  And  be.  3 

c  set.' 


/Ps.xci.  11,12. 


*  Deut.  vi.  16. 
I  And,  3 

*  talvin*'.  3 


~^T"OW  °  °  it  came  to  pass  in  those  tlays,'- '  when  all  the  people 
-L^  were  baptized,'  that  Jesus  came "  from  Nazareth  of  Galilee  - 
to  Jordan  unto  John  to  be  baptized  of  him. 

But  John  forbad  him,  saying, 

"  I  have  need  to  be  baptized  of  thee,  and  comest  thou  to  me  I " 

And  Jesus  answering  said  unto  him, 

"  Suffer  it  to  be  so  now  :  for  thus  it  becometh  us  to  fulfil  all  right- 
eousness." 

Then  he  suffered  him,'  and  was  baptized  of  John  in  Jordan.^ 

And  Jesus,'  praying,*  when  he  was''  baptized,  went  up'  straight- 
way out  of  the  water  :  and,  lo,  the  heavens  were/  opened  unto ' 
Jolin,^?  and  he  saw  the  Sjairit  of  God,'  the  Holy  Ghost,'  descend- 
ing** in  a  bodily  shape,'  like  a  dove,  and  lighting  upon  him  :  and  lo 
a  voice'  came'"  from  heaven,'  which  said,'* 

"This  is'  my  beloved  Son,  in  whom"'  I  am  well  pleased."' 

And  Jesus  being  fidl  of  the  Holy  Ghost  returned  from  Jordan, 
and"  was'  immediately  °  led  up  of"  the  Spirif  into  the  wilderness  to 
be  tempted  of  the  devil.' 

And  he  was'  there  in  the  wilderness  forty  daj's,  tempted  of  Sa- 
tan ;  "■  and  was  with  the  wild  beasts ;  -  and  in  those  days  he  did  eat 
nothing.' 

And  when  he  had  fasted  forty  days  and  forty  nights,'  he  was  after- 
ward '  a '' '  hungred." 

And  when  the  tempter,'  the  devil,'  came  to  him,  he  said'  unto 
him,' 

"  If  thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  command  that  these  stones"  be  made 
bread." 

But ' "  Jesus  *  answered  him,  saying,' 

"  It  is  written,  'That  man  shall  not  live  by  bre.ad  alone,  but  by 
every  wor^  '  that  proceedeth  out  of  the  mouth  of  God.'  "  '  " 

Then  the  devil  "■  brought  him  to  Jerusalem,' and*  takcth  him  up 
into  the  holy  city,  and  setteth  "^  him  on  a  piimacle  of  the  temple,  and 
saith ''  nnto  him, 

"  If  thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  cast  thyself  down '  from  hence ; ' 
for  it  is  written,  '  He  shall  give  his  angels  charge  concerning '  thee,' 
to  keep  thee  :  and  in  their  hands  they  shall  bear  thee  up,  lest  at 
any  time  thou  dash  thy  foot  against  a  stone.' "/ 

And  Jesus,  answering,  said  unto  him,' 

"  It  is  WTitten  again,  ^  '  Thou  shalt  not  tempt  the  Lord  thy 
God.' "  * 

Again,'  the  devil  taketh  *■  him  up  into  an  exceeding  high  mountain,' 


^ 


-^ 


[g a 

TESTIMONY  OF  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST.  349 

and  shcweth"  him  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world,  and  the  elorv   Ma't-i'-S-H- 

"  '  b       J     Mark  i.  13. 

of  them,^   iu  a  moment  of  time ;  ^   and '   the   devil '   saith  '   unto  ^"''e  !»■  23. 

—  IV.  13. 

him,  — 

o  shewed  unto.  3 

"  All  these  things     and  the  glory  of  them,'  and  °  all  this  power  » said.  3 
will  I  give  thee,'  (for  that  is  delivered  unto  me ;  and  to  whomsoever 
I  will  I  give  it,)'  if  thou  wilt  fall  down  and  worship  me."'  *  if  thou  there- 

Then  ^  "*  Jesus  answered  and  said  '  unto  him,'  ship  me,  aii 

"Get  thee  hence,/ Satan  :  for  it  is  written,  'Thou  shalt  worship  rfAnd.s 
the  Lord  thy  God,  and  him  only  shalt  thou  serve.'"  '^  !^?'!'!'i 

•'  '  ■'  /behind  mi'.  3 

And  when  the  devil  had  ended  all  the  temptation,*  he  departed  "  Ocut.  tL  13. 

from '  him  for  a  season.'     And,  behold,  angels  *  came  and  ministered  ■  leaveth.  i 

unto  him.*  *  "^'^  "ngeb.  2 

And  Jesus  himself  began  to  be  about  thirty  years  of  age.' 


CHAPTER    IX. 

The  Testimony  of  John  the  Baptist  to  Jesus,  and  tJie  Calling  of  tlie 
first  Disciples. 


A 


ND  this  is  the  record  of  John,  when  the  Jews  sent  priests  John  i.  19. 
and  Levites  from  Jerusalem  to  ask  him, 

"  Who  art  thou  ] " 

And  he  confessed,  and  denied  not ;  but  confessed, 

"  I  am  not  the  Christ." 

And  they  asked  him, 

"  What  then ?     Art  thou ^  Elijah ?" "  ' Biias. « 

And  he  saith, 

"  I  am  not." 

"Art  thou  that  prophet  1" 

And  he  answered, 

"  No." 

Then  said  thej'  unto  him, 

"  Who  art  thou  ?  that  we  may  give  an  answer  to  them  that  sent 
us.     What  sayest  thou  of  thyself?  " 

He  said, 

"  I  am  the  voice  of  one  crying  in  the  wilderness,  '  Make  straight 
the  way  of  the  Lord,  "■  as  said  the  prophet  *  Isaiah."  ^  "  TlJaiii 

And  they  which  were  sent  were  of  the  Pharisees.  And  they 
asked  him,  and  said  unto  him, 

"Why  baptizest  thou  then,  if  thou  be  not  that  Christ,  nor* 
Elijah,'"  neither  that  prophet T'  oEiia^f 

John  answered  them,  saying, 

"  I  baptize  with  water  :  but  there  staudeth  one  among  you,  whom 
ye  know  not ;  he  it  is,  who  coming  after  me  is  pi-efeiTcd  before  me, 
whose  shoe's  latchet  I  am  not  worthy  to  unloose."* 


cfr 


-^ 


^ -^ 

350  THE   GOSPELS   COXSOLIDATED. 


Johni  2? -46. 


4 


These  things  were  done  in  Bethabara  beyond  Jordan,  where  John 
was  baptizing. 

The  nest  day  John  seeth  Jesus  coming  unto  him,  and  saith, 

"Behold  the  Lamb  of  God,  which  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world. 
This  is  he  of  whom  I  said,  '  After  me  cometh  a  man  which  is  pre- 
ferred before  me ' :  for  he  was  before  me.  And  I  knew  him  not : 
but  that  he  should  be  made  manifest  to  Israel,  therefore  am  I  come 
baptizing  with  water." 

And  John  bare  record,  saying, 

I  saw  the  Spirit  descending  from  heaven  like  a  dove,  and  it  abode 
upon  him.  And  I  knew  him  not :  but  be  that  sent  me  to  baptize 
with  water,  the  same  said  unto  me,  '  Upon  whom  thou  shalt  see  the 
Spirit  descending,  and  remaining  on  him,  the  same  is  he  which  bap- 
tizeth  with  the  Holy  Ghost.'  And  I  saw,  and  bare  record  that  this 
is  the  Son  of  God." 

Again  the  nest  day  after  John  stood,  and  two  of  his  disciples ;  and 
looking  upon  Jesus  as  he  walked,  he  saith, 

"  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God  !  " 

And  the  two  disciples  heard  him  speak,  and  they  followed  Jesus. 
Then  Jesus  turned,  and  saw  them  following,  and  saith  unto  them, 

"  \Miat  seek  ye  ? " 

They  said  unto  him, 

"  Rabbi,"  (which  is  to  say,  being  interpreted,  ■'  Master,")  "  where 
dwellest  thou  ? " 

He  saith  unto  them, 

"  Come  and  see." 

They  came  and  saw  where  he  dwelt,  and  abode  with  him  that 
day  :  for  it  was  about  the  tenth  hour.  One  of  the  two  which  heard 
John  speak,  and  followed  him,  was  Andrew,  Simon  Peter's  brother. 
He  first  findeth  his  own  brother  Simon,  and  saith  unto  him, 

"We  have  found  the  Messias,"  (which  is,  being  interpreted,  "the 
Christ,") 

And  he  brought  him  to  Jesus.  And  when  Jesus  beheld  him,  he 
Baid, 

"Thou  art  Simon  the  son  of  Jona:  thou  shalt  be  called  'Cephas,'" 
(which  is  by  interpretation,  "  A  stone.") 

The  day  following  Jesus  would  go  forth  into  GalUee,  and  findeth 
Philip,  and  saith  unto  him, 

"  Follow  me." 

Now  Philip  was  of  Bethsaida,  the  city  of  Andrew  and  Peter. 
Philip  findeth  Nathanael,  and  saith  unto  him, 

"We  have  found  him,  of  whom  Moses  in  the  law,  and  the  prophets, 
did  write,  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  son  of  Joseph." 

And  Nathanael  said  unto  him, 

"  Can  there  any  good  thing  come  out  of  Nazareth  ?  " 

Philip  saith  unto  him, 

"Come  and  see." * 


-ff 


a- 


MARRIAGE  AT   CANA.  351 

Jesus  saw  Nathanael  coming  to  him,  and  saith  of  him,  John  •  47-51. 

"  Behold  an  Israelite  indeed,  in  whom  is  uo  guile  !  " 

Nathanael  saith  unto  him, 

"  Whence  knowest  thou  me  1" 

Jesus  answered  and  saith  unto  him, 

"  Before  that  Philip  called  thee,  when  thou  wast  under  the  fig-tree, 
I  saw  thee." 

Nathanael  answered  and  saith  unto  him, 

"  Rabbi,  thou  art  the  Sou  of  God  ;  thou  art  the  King  of  Israel." 

Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  him, 

"  Because  I  said  unto  thee  '  I  saw  thee  under  the  fig-tree,'  believest 
thou  1  thou  shalt  see  greater  things  than  these." 

And  he  saith  unto  him, 

"  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  Hereafter  ye  shall  see  heaven 
open,  and  the  augels  of  God  ascending  and  descending  upon  the  Sou 
of  man."  * 


CHAPTER    X. 

The  Marriage  at  Cana.  —  Journe>/  to  Jerusalem.  —  The  casting  out  of 
the  Traders  from  the  Temple. 

A    ND  the  third  day  there  was  a  marriage  in  Cana  of  Galileo  ;   John  it  i  lo. 
-'-^  and  the  mother  of  Jesus  was  there :  and  both  Jesus  was  called, 
and  his  disciples,  to  the  marriage. 

And  when  they  wanted  wine,  the  mother  of  Jesus  saith  unto  him, 

"  They  have  no  wine." 

Jesus  saith  unto  her, 

"  Woman,  what  have  I  to  do  with  thee  %  mine  hour  is  not  yet 
come." 

His  mother  saith  unto  the  servants, 

"  Whatsoever  he  saith  unto  you,  do  it." 

And  there  were  set  there  six  waterpots  of  stone,  after  the  man- 
ner of  the  purifying  of  the  Jews,  containing  two  or  three  firkins 
apiece. 

Jesus  saith  unto  them, 

"  Fill  the  waterpots  with  water." 

And  they  filled  them  up  to  the  brim.     And  he  saith  unto  them, 

"  Draw  out  now,  and  bear  unto  the  governor  of  the  feast." 

And  they  bare  it.  When  the  ruler  of  the  feast  had  tasted  the 
water  that  was  made  wine,  aud  knew  not  whence  it  was  :  (but  the 
servants  which  drew  the  water  knew;)  the  governor  of  the  feast 
called  the  bridegroom,  and  saith  unto  him, 

"Every  man  at  the  begiiniing  doth  set  forth  good  wine;  and  when 
men  have  well  drunk,  then  that  which  is  worse  :  but  thou  hast  kept 
the  good  wine  until  now."  ^ 

^' i 


a- -a 

352  THE   GOSPELS   CONSOLIDATED. 

johnu.  11-22.  This  beginning  of  miracles  did  Jesus  in  Cana  of  Galilee,  and  mani- 

fested forth  his  glory  ;  and  his  disciples  believed  on  him. 

After  this  he  went  down  to  Capernaum,  he,  and  his  mother,  and 
his  brethren,  and  his  disciples  :  and  they  continued  there  not  many 
days. 

And  the  Jews'  passover  was  at  hand,  and  Jesus  went  up  to  Jeru- 
salem, and  found  in  the  temple  those  that  sold  oxen  and  sheep  and 
doves,  and  the  Changers  of  money  sitting  :  and  when  he  had  made 
a  scourge  of  small  cords,  he  drove  them  all  out  of  the  temple,  and 
the  sheep,  and  the  oxen  ;  and  poured  out  the  changers'  money,  and 
overthrew  the  tables ;  and  said  unto  them  that  sold  doves, 
aan«  "Take  these  things  hence;  make   not  my  Fathers  house*  a'" 

house  of  merchandise." 

And  his  disciples  remembered  that  it  was  written, 
h  Psalm  iiii  9.  "  The  zeal  of  thine  house  hath  eaten  me  up."  ' 

Tlicn  answered  the  Jews  and  said  unto  him, 

"  Wliat  sign  shewest  thou  unto  us,  seeing  that  thou  doest  these 
things  ] " 

Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  them, 

"  Destroy  this  temple,  and  in  three  days  I  will  raise  it  up." 

Then  said  the  Jews, 

"  Forty  and  six  years  was  this  temple  in  building,  and  wilt  thou 
rear  it  up  in  three  days  ] " 

But  he  spake  of  the  temple  of  his  body.  When  therefore  he  was 
risen  from  the  dead,  his  disciples  remembered  that  he  had  said  this 
unto  them  ;  and  they  believed  the  scripture,  and  the  word  which 
Jesus  had  said.* 


CHAPTER    XI. 

Jesus  and  Nicodemus.  —  Further  Testimonij  of  the  Baptist. 

Johnii.K-26.  ^VT"OW  when  he  was  in  Jerusalem  at  the  passover,  in  the  feast 
—  -1-^     day,  many  believed  in  his  name,  when  they  saw  the  miracles 

which  he  did.  But  Jesus  did  not  commit  himself  unto  them,  be- 
cause he  knew  all  men,  and  needed  not  that  any  should  testify  of 
man  :  for  he  knew  what  was  in  man. 

There  was  a  man  of  the  Pharisees,  named  Nicodemus,  a  ruler  of 
the  Jews  :  the  same  came  to  Jesus  by  night,  and  said  unto  him, 

"  Rabbi,  we  know  that  thou  art  a  teacher  come  from  God  :  for 
no  man  can  do  these  miracles  that  thou  doest,  except  God  be  with 
him." 

Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  him, 

"  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  thee,  Except  a  man  be  bom  again,  he 
cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God." 

Nicodemus  saith  unto  him. 

tfe- Si 


^ a 

NICODEMUS.  353 

"  How  can  a  man  be  lioni  when  he  is  old  ?  can  he  enter  the  second  •'<''"'  ■"•4-27 
time  into  his  mother's  womb,  and  be  born  1 " 

Jesus  answered, 

"  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  thee.  Except  a  man  be  bom  of  water 
and  of  the  Spirit,  he  cannot  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God.  That 
which  is  born  of  the  flesh  is  flesh  ;  and  that  which  is  born  of  the 
Spirit  is  spirit.  Marvel  not  that  I  said  unto  thee,  '  Ye  must  be  bom 
again.'  The  wind  bloweth  where  it  listeth,  and  thou  hearest  the 
sound  thereof,  but  canst  not  tell  whence  it  cometh,  and  whither  it 
goeth  :  so  is  every  one  that  is  born  of  the  Spirit." 

Nicodenius  answered  and  said  unto  him 

"  How  can  these  things  heV     . 

Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  him, 

"  Art  thou  a  master  of  Israel,  and  knowest  not  these  things  1 
Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  thee,  We  speak  that  we  do  know,  and 
testify  that  we  have  seen  ;  and  ye  receive  not  our  witness.  H  I 
have  told  you  earthly  things,  and  ye  believe  not,  how  shall  ye  be- 
lieve, if  I  tell  you  of  heavenly  things  1  And  no  man  hath  ascended 
up  to  heaven,  but  he  that  came  down  from  heaven,  even  the  Son 
of  man  which  is  in  heaven.  And  as  Moses  lifted  up  the  serpent  in 
the  wilderness,  even  so  must  the  Son  of  man  be  lifted  up ;  that  who- 
soever believeth  in  him  should  not  perish,  but  have  eternal  life. 

"  For  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten 
Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in  him  should  not  perish,  but  have 
everlasting  life.  For  God  sent  not  his  Son  into  the  world  to  condemn 
the  world  ;  but  that  the  world  through  him  might  be  saved.  He 
that  believeth  on  him  is  not  condemned  :  but  he  that  believeth  not 
is  condemned  already,  because  he  hath  not  believed  in  the  name  of 
the  only  begotten  Son  of  God.  And  this  is  the  condemnation,  that 
light  is  come  into  the  world,  and  men  loved  darkness  rather  than 
light,  because  their  deeds  were  evil.  For  every  one  that  doeth  evil 
hateth  the  light,  neither  cometh  to  the  light,  lest  his  deeds  should 
be  reproved.  But  he  that  doeth  tmth  cometh  to  the  light,  that  his 
deeds  may  be  made  manifest,  that  they  are  wrought  in  God." 

After  these  things  came  Jesus  and  his  disciples  into  the  land  of 
Judsea ;  and  there  he  tarried  with  them,  and  baptized.  And  John 
also  was  baptizing  in  ^non  near  to  Salim,  because  there  was  much 
water  there  :  and  they  came,  and  were  baptized.  For  John  was  not 
yet  cast  into  prison. 

Then  there  arose  a  question  between  some  of  John's  disciples  and 
the  Jews  about  purifying.  And  they  came  unto  John,  and  said  unto 
him, 

"Rabbi,  he  that  was  with  thee  beyond  Jordan,  to  whom  thou 
barest  witness,  behold,  the  same  baptizeth,  and  all  men  come  to 
him." 

John  answered  and  said, 

"  A  man  can  receive  nothing,  except  it  be  given  him  from  heaven.* 

^ 


[& 


554 


-^ 


THE   GOSPELS   CONSOLIDATED. 


Ye  yourselves  bear  me  witness,  tliat  I  said,  '  I  am  not  the  Christ,' 
but  that  I  am  sent  before  him.  He  that  hath  the  bride  is  the  bride- 
groom :  but  the  friend  of  the  bridegroom,  whicli  standeth  and  heareth 
him,  rejolceth  greatly  because  of  the  bridegroom's  voice  :  this  my  joy 
therefore  is  fulfilled.  He  must  increase,  but  I  must  decrease.  He 
that  Cometh  from  above  is  above  all  :  he  that  is  of  the  earth  is 
earthly,  and  speaketh  of  the  earth  :  he  that  cometh  from  heaven  is 
above  all.  And  what  lie  hath  seen  and  heard,  that  he  testifieth ; 
and  no  man  receiveth  his  testimony.  He  that  hath  received  his 
testimony  hath  set  to  his  seal  that  God  is  true.  For  he  whom  God 
hath  sent  speaketh  the  words  of  God  :  for  God  giveth  not  the  Spirit 
by  measure  unto  him." 

The  Father  loveth  the  Son,  and  hath  given  all  things  into  his 
hand.  He  that  bclieveth  on  the  Son  hath  everlasting  life  :  and  he 
that  belicveth  not  the  Son  shall  not  see  life ;  but  the  wrath  of  God 
abideth  on  him.^ 


Mutt.  It.  12. 

—  xiT.  3-B. 
Mark  i.  14. 

—  Ti.  17-20. 
Lukfiii.  19.20. 

—  iT.  U. 
John  iv.  1-6. 

o  But.  3    for.  1  2 
6  had  (sent. - 
f  had  laid.  J 


c  Herod. ' 
/him.l 
J  her  1 

^  and. * 
»  he  feared. 


m  when.  1 
n  .Tnhn.l 
o  when  there- 


CHAPTER    XII. 

Imprisonment  of  John   the  Baptist.  —  Return  of  Jesus  to  Galilee.  — 
Intervieiv  with  the    Woman  of  Samaria. 

"VrOW  1 "  Herod  the  tetrarch  '  himself  »  sent  '  forth  and  laid  ' 
-^-y  hold  upon ''  John,  and  ^  bound  him,  and  put  him  in  prison 
for  Herodias'  sake,  his  brother  Philip's  wife ;  ^  Herod  °  being  re- 
proved by  him  for  Herodias,'  (for  he  liad  married  her,'')  and  for  all 
the  evils  which'  he^'  had  done,  and'  he'  added  yet  this  above 
all,  that  he  shut  up  John  in  prison.' 

For  John  had  said  unto  Herod,/ 

"  It  is  not  lawful  for  thee  to  iiave  thy  brother's  wife."  ^ 

Therefore  Herodias  had  a  quarrel  against  him,  and  would  have 
killed  him ;  but  she  could  not  :  for  Herod,^  *  when  he  would  have 
put  him  to  death,  feared '  the  multitude,  because  they  counted  him 
for*  a  prophet  :  and  Herod  also'  feared  John,  knowing  that  he  was 
a  just  man  aud^  a"  holy,  and  observed  him  ;  and  when  he  heard 
him,  he  did  man^'  things  and  heard  him  gladly.^ 

Now  after  that  John  was  put  in  prison,''  and ""  Jesus  had  heard 
that'  he'"  was  cast  into  prison,'  and'  when"  the  Lord  knew  how 
the  Pharisees  had  heard  that  Jesus  made  and  baptized  more  dis- 
ciples than  John,  (though  Jesus  himself  baptized  not,  but  his  dis- 
ciples,) he  left  Judsca,  and  departed  again  ^  and'  returned  J*  in  the 
power  of  the  Spirit  into  Galilee.' 

And  he  must  needs  go  through  Samaria. 

Then  cometh  he  to  a  city  of  Samaria,  which  is  called  Sychar, 
near  to  the  parcel  of  ground  that  Jacob  gave  to  his  son  Joseph. 
Now  Jacob's  well  was  there.     Jesus  therefore,  being  wearied  with  * 


^ 


-ff 


^ ^ 

THE    WOMAN  OF  SAMARTA.  355 

his  jouniej-,    sat    thus    on    the   well:    and   it   was   about   the   sixth   John  ir.  6  -  ai. 
hour. 

There  conieth  a  woman  of  Samaria  to  draw  water  :  Jesus  saith 
unto  her, 

"Give  me  to  drink." 

(For  his  disciples  were  gone  away  unto  the  city  to  buy  meat.) 
Then  saith  the  woman  of  Samaria  inito  him, 

"  How  is  it  that  thou,  being  a  Jew,  askest  drink  of  me,  which 
am  a  woman  of  Samaria]  for  the  Jews  have  no  dealings  with  the 
Samaritans." 

Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  her, 

"  If  thou  knewest  the  gift  of  God,  and  who  it  is  that  saith  to 
thee,  '  Give  me  to  drink '  ;  thou  wouldest  have  asked  of  him,  and 
he  would  have  given  thee  living  water." 

The  woman  saith  unto  him, 

"  Sir,  thou  hast  nothing  to  draw  with,  and  the  well  is  deep  : 
fi-om  whence  then  hast  thou  that  living  water?  Art  thou  greater 
than  our  fixther  Jacob,  which  gave  us  the  well,  and  drank  thereof 
himself,  and  his  children,   and  his  cattle  1 " 

Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  her, 

"  Whosoever  driuketh  of  this  water  shall  thirst  again  :  but  who- 
soever drinketh  of  the  water  that  I  shall  give  him  shall  never  thirst ; 
but  the  water  that  I  shall  give  him  shall  be  in  him  a  well  of  water 
springing  up  into  everlasting  life." 

The  woman  saith  unto  him, 

"  Sir,  give  me  this  water,  that  I  thirst  not,  neither  come  hither  to 
draw." 

Jesus  saith  unto  her, 

"  Go,  call  thy  husband,  and  come  hither." 

The  woman  answered  and  said, 

"  I  have  no  husband." 

Jesus  said  unto  her, 

"Thou  hast  well  said,  'I  have  no  husband':  for  thou  hast  had  five 
husbands ;  and  he  whom  thou  now  hast  is  not  thy  husband  :  in  that 
saidst  thou  truly." 

The  woman  saith  unto  him, 

"  Sir,  I  perceive  that  thou  art  a  prophet.  Our  fathers  worshipped 
in  this  mountain  ;  and  ye  say,  that  in  Jerusalem  is  the  place  where 
men  ought  to  worship." 

Jesus  saith  imto  her, 

"  Woman,  believe  me,  the  hour  cometh,  when  ye  shall  neither  in 
this  mountain,  nor  yet  at  Jenisalem,  worship  the  Father.  Ye  wor- 
ship ye  know  not  what  :  we  know  what  we  worship  :  for  salvation  is 
of  the  Jews.  But  the  hour  cometh,  and  now  is,  when  the  true 
worshippers  shall  worship  the  Father  in  spirit  and  in  truth  :  for  the 
Father  seeketh  such  to  worship  him.  God  is  a  Spirit  :  and  they 
that  worship  him  must  worship  him  in  spirit  and  in  truth."  * 

tf 


[p- ^ ^ 

356  THE    GOSPELS   CONSOLIDATED. 

John  jT  25-45.         'fjjg  Ionian  saith  unto  him, 

"  I  know  that  Messias  couieth,  which  is  called  Christ :  when  he  is 
come,  he  will  tell  us  all  things." 

Jesus  saith  unto  her, 

"  I  that  speak  unto  thee  am  he." 

And  upon  this  came  his  disciples,  and  marvelled  that  he  talked 
with  the  woman  :  yet  no  man  said,  "What  seekest  thou?"  or,  "  WIiv 
talkcst  thou  with  her  1  "  The  woman  then  left  her  waterpot,  and 
went  her  way  into  the  city,  and  saith  to  the  men, 

"  Conic,  see  a  man,  which  told  mc  all  things  that  ever  I  did  :  is 
not  this  the  Christ  ?  " 

Then  they  went  out  of  the  city,  and  came  unto  him. 

In  the  mean  while  his  disciples  prayed  him,  saying, 

"  Master,  eat." 

But  he  said  imto  them, 

"  I  have  meat  to  eat  that  yc  know  not  of." 

Therefore  said  the  disciples  one  to  another, 

"  Hath  any  man  brought  him  onght  to  eat  ] " 

Jesus  saith  unto  them, 

"  My  meat  is  to  do  the  will  of  him  that  sent  me,  and  to  finish  his 
work.  Say  not  ye,  '  There  are  yet  four  months,  and  then  comoth 
harvest  1 '  behold,  I  say  unto  you,  Lift  up  j-our  eyes,  and  look  on  the 
fields ;  for  they  are  white  already  to  harvest.  And  he  that  reapeth 
receiveth  wages,  and  gathereth  fruit  unto  life  eternal  :  that  both  he 
that  soweth  and  he  that  reapeth  niaj'  rejoice  together.  And  herein 
is  that  saying  true,  '  One  soweth  and  another  reapeth.'  I  sent  you 
to  reap  that  whereon  ye  bestowed  no  labor :  other  men  labored,  and 
ye  are  entered  into  their  labors." 

And  many  of  the  Samaritans  of  that  city  believed  on  him  for  the 
saying  of  the  woman,  which  testified,  "  He  told  me  all  that  ever  I 
did."  So  when  the  Samaritans  were  come  unto  him,  they  besought 
him  that  he  would  tan-y  with  them  :  and  he  abode  there  two  daj-s. 
And  many  more  believed  because  of  his  own  word  ;  and  said  unto 
the  woman, 

"  Now  we  believe,  not  because  of  thj'  saying  :  for  we  have  heard 
him  ourselves,  and  know  that  this  is  indeed  the  Christ,  the  Saviour 
of  the  world." 

Now  after  two  days  he  departed  thence,  and  went  into  Galilee. 
For  Jesus  himself  testified,  that  a  prophet  hath  no  honor  in  his  own 
country.  Then  when  he  was  come  into  Galilee,  the  Galileans  re- 
ceived him,  having  seen  all  the  things  that  he  did  at  Jerusalem  at 
the  feast :  for  they  also  went  unto  the  feast.* 


fr 


i 


c& 


THE  PREACHING   OF  JESUS  IN  GALILEE. 


■a 


357 


CHAPTER    XIII. 


The  Preaching  of  Jesiis  in  Galilee.  —  Several  Miracles.  —  Calling  of 
several  Disciples. 

Tj^ROM  that  time  Jesus  began  to  preach '  °  the  gospel  of  the  king-  jj^'^i^i] 


-L      dom  of  God,"  and  to  say,'  * 

"  The  time  is  fulfilled,  and  '  the  kingdom  of  God ''  is  at  hand  : 
repent  ye,  and  believe  the  gospel.''  - 

And  there  went  out  a  fame  of  him  through  all  the  region  round 
about.     And  he  taught  in  their  synagogues,  being  glorified  of  all.' 

So  Jesus  came  again  into  Cana  of  Galilee,  where  he  made  the 
water  wine.  And  there  was  a  certain  nobleman,  whose  son  was  sick 
at  Capernaum.  When  he  heard  that  Jesus  was  come  out  of  Judtea 
into  Galilee,  he  went  unto  him,  and  besought  him  that  he  would 
come  down,  and  heal  his  son  :  for  he  was  at  the  point  of  death. 

Then  said  Jesus  unto  him, 

"  Except  ye  see  signs  and  wonders,  ye  wiU  not  believe." 

The  nobleman  saith  unto  him, 

"  Sir,  come  down  ere  my  child  die." 

Jesus  saith  unto  him, 

"  Go  thy  way  ;  thy  son  liveth." 

And  the  man  believed  the  word  that  Jesus  had  spoken  unto  him, 
and  he  went  his  way.  And  as  he  was  now  going  down,  his  servants 
mot  him,  and  told  him,  saying, 

"  Thy  son  liveth." 

Then  inquired  he  of  them  the  hour  when  he  began  to  amend. 
And  they  said  unto  him, 

"  Yesterday  at  the  seventh  hour  the  fever  left  him." 

So  the  father  knew  that  it  was  at  the  same  hour,  in  the  which 
Jesus  said  unto  him,  "  Thy  son  liveth  "  :  and  himself  believed,  and 
his  whole  house.  This  is  again  the  second  miracle  that  Jesus  did, 
when  he  was  come  out  of  Judaea  into  Galilee.* 

And  he  came  to  Nazareth,  where  he  had  been  brought  up  :  and, 
as  his  custom  was,  he  went  into  the  synagogue  on  the  sabbath  day, 
and  stood  up  for  to  read.  And  there  was  delivered  unto  him  the 
book  of  the  prophet '  Isaiah. ° '  And  when  he  had  opened  the  book, 
he  found  the  place  where  it  was  written, 

"The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is  upon  me, 
Because  he  hath  anointed  me  to  preach  the  gospel  to  the  poor ; 
He  hath  sent  me  to  heal  the  broken-hearted, 
To  preach  deliverance  to  the  captives, 
And  recovering  of  sight  to  the  blind, 
To  set  at  liberty  them  that  are  bruised, 
To  preach  the  acceptable  year  of  the  Lord."  *-f 


46-&t 


«  preaching.  ■ 
6  NiyiDg.  - 


B- 


4 


[& 


358 


THE   GOSPELS   CONSOLIDATED 


^ 


Matt  iv.  13-16,       A,j,j  j^g  closed  the  book,  and  ho  gave  it  again  to  the  minister, 
Lukeiv%-si      ^^^  ^^^  down.     And  the  eyes  of  all  them  that  were  in  the  syna- 
-•  V.  1-4.        gogiie  were  fastened  on  him. 

And  he  began  to  say  unto  them, 
"  This  day  is  this  scri])ture  fulfilled  in  your  ears." 
And  all  bai'e  him  witness,  and  wondered   at  the  gracious  words 
whicli  proceeded  out  of  his  mouth.     And  they  said, 
"  Is  not  this  Joseph's  son  1 " 
And  he  said  unto  them, 

"  Ye  will  surely  say  unto  mo  this  proverb,  '  Physician,  heal  thy 
self  :     '  Whatsoever  we  have  heard  done  in  Capernaum,  do  also  here 
in  thy  countiy.' " 
And  he  said, 

"  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  no  prophet  is  accepted  in  his  own  country. 

But  I  tell  j'ou  of  a  truth,  many  widows  were  in  Israel  in  the  days 

oEiiass  °^*  Elijah,'"  when  the  heaven  was  shut   up  three  years  and  six 

months,  when  gi'eat  famine  was  throughout  all  the  land  ;  but  unto 

ssarepta.a  nouc  of  them  was'  Elijah'"  sent,  save  unto*  Zarephath  "  a  city 

csidon.3  of  Zidon,*'^  unto  a  woman  that  was  a  widow.     And  many  lepers 

rfEiiseus.a  wcrc  in  Israel  in  the  time  of*  Elisha'"*  the  prophet  ;  and  none  of 

them  was  cleansed,  saving  Naaman  the  Sj-riau." 

And  all  they  in  the  synagogue,  when  they  heard  these  things,  were 
filled  with  wrath,  and  rose  up,  and  thrust  him  out  of  the  city,  and 
led  him  unto  the  brow  of  tlie  hill  whereon  their  city  was  built,  that 
thev  might  cast  him  down  headlong.  But  he  passing  tlirough  the 
midst  of  them  went  his  way,  and  '  leaving  Nazareth,  he '  came  down 
to  '  and  dwelt  in  Capernaum,'  a  city  of  Galilee,*  which  is  upon  the 
sea-coast,  in  the  borders  of  Zebulun  ' '  and*  Naphtali  :'/  that  it 
might  be  fulfilled  which  was  spoken  by '  Isaiah '  ^  the  prophet, 
saying, 

"The  land  of  Zclnihin^e 
And  the  land  of  Naphtali  6 ' 
By  the  way  of  the  sea,  beyond  Jordan, 
Galilee  of  the  Gentiles  ; 

The  people  which  sat  in  darkness  saw  great  light ; 
And  to  them  which  sat  in  the  region  and  shadow  of  death  light  is  sprung 

*  Isaiah  Li.  1,2.  up."* 

I  now  as  he  ^^j  jesus.  Walking'  by  the  sea  of  Galilee,*  saw'  two  brethren, 

*  hike  of  Genne-  Simou  Called  Peter,  and  Andrew  his  brother,  casting  a  net  into  the 
'  he  saw. '-  sea  :  for  thcj'  were  fishers.'  And  *  when  '  they  '  "  were  gone  out 
"' the  flshermen.3  of  3  their  ships,' "  and  were  washing   their   nets,'  it   came  to  pass 

that '  the  people  pressed  upon  him  to  hear  the  word  of  God.'  And  ' 
as'  he  stood  b}'  the  lake,*  and  saw  '  the  *  two  ships  standing  by  the 
c  the  ships.  3  lake,'  he  entered  into  one  of  them,'"  which  was  Simon's,  and  prayed 
him  that  he  would  thrust  out  a  little  from  the  land.  And  he  sat 
down  and  taught  the  people  out  of  the  ship. 

Now  when  he  had  left  speaking,  he  said  unto  Simon," 


<  Zabulon .  1 
/Nephthalim.l 
g  E.saias.  l 


^ 


-ff 


DRAUGHT   OF  FISHES.  359 


And  Simon  answerintir  said  unto  him,  Luke  iv.  31 -37. 

"  Master,  we  have  toiled    all  the  night,  and  have  taken  nothing :  — 

nevertheless  at  thy  word  I  will  let  down  the  net." 

And  when  they  had  this  done,  they  enclosed  a  great  multitude 
of  fishes  :  and  their  net  brake  And  they  beckoned  unto  their  part- 
ners, which  were  in  the  other  ship,  that  they  should  come  and  help 
them.  And  they  came,  and  filled  both  the  ships,  so  that  they  began 
to  sink. 

When  Simon  Peter  saw  it,  he  fell  down  at  Jesus'  knees,  saying, 

"  Depart  from  me  ;  for  I  am  a  sinful  man,  0  Lord." 

For  he  was  astonished,  and  all  that  were  with  him,  at  the  draught 
of  the  fishes  which  they  had  taken  :  and  so  was  also  James,  and 
John,  the  sons  of  Zebedee,  which  were  partners  with  Simon. 

And  Jesus  said  "  unto  » them,»  *  Itt^^^z ' 

"Fear  not;'  come  ye  after''  me,  and  I  will"  from  hencefortn'  cfoUowi 
make  you  to  become  fishers  of  ^  men."  -  Ltch.  3 

And  when  they  had  brought  their  ships  to  land,  they  '  straight- 
way '  forsook '  all/  and  followed  him.'  '  '*'*■' 

^  f  their  nets.  1  2 

And  when  he  had  gone  a  little  further  f  thence,^  he  saw  the  ^  g  going  on  from.' 
other  two  brethren,  James  the  son  of  Zebedee,  and  John  his  broth- 
er,' who  also  were  in  the  '^  other  '°  *  ship  with  Zebedee  their  father,    *  a.  i    the.  "- 
mending  their  nets.'     And  straightway  ho  called  them  :  and  they  '^ 
immediately  left  the  ship  and  their  father '  Zebedee  in  the  ship  with 
the  hired  servants,  and  went  after '  him.''  ■  followed,  i 

And  they  went  into  Capernaum  ;  and  straightway  on  the  sabbath - 
days  '*  he  entered  into  the  synagogue  and  taught.'     And  they  were   ,  ^l„^x,  tiiem  3 
astonished  at  his  doctrine  :    for  he  taught  them  as  one   that  had 
authority,  and  not  as  the  scribes,'^  for  his  word  was  with  power.' 

And  there  was  in  their  "  synagogue  a  man  which  had  a  spirit  of  m  the  3 
an  unclean  devil  :'  "  and  he  cried  out  ^  with  a  loud  voice,'  saj'ing,         »  with  an  unclean 

spirit.  2 

"Let  us  alone;  what  have  we  to  do  with  thee,  thou  Jesus  of 
Nazareth  \  Art  thou  come  to  destroy  us  ?  I  know  thee  who  thou 
art,  the  Holy  One  of  God." 

And  Jesus  rebuked  him,  saying, 

"  Hold  thy  peace,  and  come  out  of  him."  ^ 

And  when  the  devil"  had'  torn  him,^  and'  thrown  him   in  the   » unclean  spirit.  3 
midst,'  and  cried  with  a  loud  voice,  he  came  out  of  him,"  and  hurt 
him  not.^ 

And  they  were  all  amazed,  insomuch  that  they  questioned''  among  pspaks.s 
themselves,  saying, 

"  What  thing  is  this  ?  Wliat  new  doctrine  is  this  \  ^  And  what  a 
word  is  this  !  For  with  authority  and  power  '  commandeth  he  even 
the  unclean  spirits,  and  they  do  obey  him,^  and  come  out."  ' 

And  immediately  his  fame'  spread  abroad  throughout  all  the  re-   ?  the  fame  of  him. 
gion  round  about  Galilee,^  and'  went  out  into  every  place  of  the 
country'  round  about.' 

cfe — — S 


a- 


560 


-^ 


THE    GOSPELS   CONSOLIDATED. 


Matt  viii.14-17. 
Marki.  2!>-:!y. 
Lukciv  38-44. 

n  .lesus  wail,  i 
6  Pettr's  hoiisp.  1 

Simon's  house.  3 
••And.  3 
''  his  1 
«■  sick  of  a  fever.  > 

Lni  J  and  sick  of.'- 
/  he  saw.  I 
V  touched  her.  * 
*  it.  a 
>  and  immediate- 


the  sun  iras 

setting,  a 

•I  all  that  wcl 

dise:i.sed.  2 


the 


eof 


sick  of  divers 
disea.scs.  - 

9  Isaiah  liii  4. 
r  the  spirits. » 
«  also  came  out  of 


V  when  it  l 

day.  3 
c  desert.  ^ 


And  he  arose  out  of  the  synagogue,'  and  forthwith  when  they 
were  "  come  ovit  of  the  synagogue,  they  entered  into  the  house  of 
Simon  '  and  Andrew,  with  James  and  John.'' 

But'  Simon's''  wife's  mother"  was  taken  with  a  great  fever,  and* 
lay  sick,"'  and  anon  they  toll  him  of/  her,"  and  besought  him  for 
her.*  And  he  came"  and  stood  over  her,'  and  took  her  by  the? 
baud,  and  lifted  her  up,"  and  rebuked  the  fever ; '  and  immediately 
the  fever  *  left  her,  and  she  "  arose  and  ' '  ministered  unto  them. 

And  at  even,*  when  the  sun  did  set," '  all  they  that  had  any  sick 
with  divers  diseases  brought  them"  unto  him,'  and"  also'  many" 
that  were  possessed  with  devils.'  And  all  the  city  was  gathered  to- 
gether at  the  door.  And  he"  laid  his  hands  on'  all  that  were  sick'° 
and  healed  '  them  :  '  that  it  might  be  fulfilled  which  was  spoken 
by  '  ls;iiah  ^F  the  prophet,  saying, 

"  Himself  took  our  infirmitie.s,  and  bare  our  sicknesses."  1 

And  he  cast  out'  many  devils "^  with  his  word  ;'  and'  the  '  devils 
came  out'  crj'ing  out,  and  saying, 

"  Thou  art  Christ  the  Son  of  God." 

And  he  rebuking  them  suftered  them'  not  to  speak:  for"  thev 
knew  '  him,"  that  he  was  Christ.' 

And  in  the  morning,"  rising  up  a  great  while  before  day,  he  went 
out,  and  departed  into  a  solitary'  place,  and  there  prayed."  And  the 
people  sought  him.'  And  Simon  and  they  that  were  with  him  fol- 
lowed after  him.  And  when  they  had  found  him,  they  said  unto 
him, 

"  All  men  seek  for  thee."  " 

And  '  the  people  ^  came  unto  him,  and  stayed  him,  that  he  should 
not  depart  from  them.' 

And  he  said  unto  them, 

"  I  must  preach  the  kingdom  of  God  to  other  cities  also  :  for 
therefore  am  I  sent."  ' 

And  he  said  unto"  Simon  and  they  that  were  with  him,*!' 

"  Let  us  go  into  the  next  towns,  that  I  may  preach  there  also  :  for 
therefore  came  I  forth." 

And  he  preached  in"  the''  synagogues  throughout  all"  Galilee, 
and  cast  out  devils," 


CHAPTER     XIV. 


^- 


Healinq  of  a  Leper,  and  of  a  Paralytic. 

AND  Jesus  went  about  all  Galilee,  teaching  in  their  synagogues, 
and  preaching  the  gospel  of  the  kingdom,  and  healing  all  man- 
ner of  sickness  and  all  manner  of  disease  among  the  people.  And 
his  fame  went  throughout  all  Syria  :  and  they  brought  unto  him  all 
sick  people  that  were  taken  with  divers  diseases  and  torments,  and ' 


^^ 


Matt. 

iv,?4 

as 



viii   '* 

-4. 

— 

x,l 

:< 

Mark 

.  4(1 

45. 

— 

i.  1- 

i 

Luke 

»   12 

-21. 

a- — ^ ^ a 

^  LEPER.  — A  PARALYTIC  361 

those  which  were  possessed  with  devils,  and  those  which  were  hma- 
tic,  and  those  that  had  the  palsy  ;  and  he  healed  them.  And  there 
followed  him  gi-eat  multitudes  of  people  fi'om  Galilee,  and  from 
Decapolis,  and  from  Jerusalem,  and  from  Judsea,  and  from  beyond 
Jordan.' 

And  it  came  to  pass  when  he  was  in  a  certain  city,   hehold  '  a 
leper, 2"  who  seeing  Jesus,'  came'"  to  him,^  and ^  fell  on  his  face,=  '=   °^^^",°^ 
and  worshipped  him,'  and  besought  "*  him,  saying  *  unto  him,''  *  therccame.  i « 

^  ^  ft  ^  kneeling  down 

"  Lord,  if  thou  wilt,  thou  canst  make  me  clean."'  to  him.  s 

And   Jesus,'  moved  with  compassion,   put  forth   his   hand,  and  ei,e, 

touched  him,=  saying,V  ^^^1"^'  """" 

"  I  will ;  be  thou  clean." 

Aud  as  soon  as  he  had  spoken,  immediately  the  leprosy  departed 

from  him,  and  he?  was  cleansed.  ^hisiept^y.i 

And  he*  straitly  charged  him,  and  forthwith  sent  him  away;  and  ''Jesus. i 
saith  unto  him, 

"See  thou  say  nothing  to  any'  man:  but  go  thy  way,   shew*  "^eii°no'' *" 

thyself  to  the  priest,  and  offer  for  thy  cleansing  those  things  which'  <  and  shew  3 

'^  '  ,  „  I  the  -rift  that.  1 

Moses  commanded  for  a  testimony  unto  them.  according  .-w  .• 

But  he  went  out,  and  began  to  publish   it  much,  and  to  blaze 
abroad   the  matter, '^  and*  so  much  the  more  went  there  a  fame 
abroad  of  Jesus,*""  that'^"  he*°  could  no  more  openly  enter  into   "jn™„uch that 2 
the  city,''  for^i"  great    multitudes'    came  together'  to   him   from   o.io.mi>.i 
every  quarter,"  to  hear,  and  to  be  healed  by  him  of  their  infirmities.'  ,  ,|,ey.  2 
And  he  withdrew  himself  mto'""  desert  places'  in'  the  wilderness,   r  was  without  in » 
and  '  there  *  prayed.' 

And  again  he  entered  into  Capernaum,  after  some  days.'  And  it 
came  to  pass  on  a  certain  day,  as  he  was  teaching,  that*  it  was 
noised  that  he  was  in  the  house.  And  straightway  many  were  gath- 
ered together,  insomuch  that  there  was  no  room  to  receive  them,  no, 
not  so  much  as  about  the  door  :  and  he  preached  the  word  unto 
them.  And '  there  were  Pharisees  and  doctors  of  the  law  sitting  by, 
which  were  come  out  of  every  town  of  Galilee,  and  Judiea,  and 
Jerusalem  :  and  the  power  of  the  Lord  was  present  to  heal  them,  t  they  brought  ' 
And,  behold,'  they  come'  unto'  him,  bringing'  a  man,'"  sick  of  ,^*°  "'"^  ' 
the"  palsy,'  lying  on'  a  bed '  which  was  borne  of  four  :' and  they  ''™';'' 

f       J '       J      ID  "^     to  which  was  tak- 

sought  means  to  bring  him  in,  and  to  lay  him  before  him.     And      en  with  a  • 

when  they  could  not  find  by  what  way  they  might  bring  him  in*  ^  come  nigh  umo 

because  of  the  multitude,'  they  went  upon  the  housetop,  and  '  un-  ^  ^^^^^  ^^^^  , 

covered  the  roof  where  he  was:  and  when  they  had  broken  it  up,  " Xrein't'he''"' 
they  let '  him  down  through  the  tiling  with  his'  bed  ' "  into  the  midst      Ak  of  the  palsy 

before  Jesus.     And  when  he  '  saw  '  their  faith,  he  said  unto  '  the  sick  6  jesus. " 

of  the  palsy,'  ■*  </  him.  3 

"  Son,'  be  of  good  cheer  ;  thy  sins '  are-/"  forgiven  thee."  '  "  ^''";  ' 

'         ./  ^  _      ^  y  be. '  - 

And,  behold,'?  the*   scribes  and   Pharisees'  who  were*  sitting  » but  there.' 


there'  began  to  reason''  in  their  hearts,'  and  said'*  within  them-  *^,'^u"„"J'^" 

selves,'  *- saying. » 


[& 


^ 


[& 


362 


THE    GOSPELS   CONSOLIDATED. 


-a 


Matt.  H  3-9. 
Mark  ii.  7-14. 
Luke  V.  21 -28. 


a  only.  2 

h  nut.  3 

c  their  thoughts.^ 


t  Ri.ie  up.  3 


And  a 

jwcre    all 

amazed 


q  Jeau.^.  1 
r  forth  from 


(  Matthew.  1 
«  saith.  1 
u?  rose  up.  8 


"  This  man  blasphemeth."  ' 

"  Who  is  this  wliich  speaketh  bhisphemies  1  "  * 

"  Why  doth  this  mau  thus  speak  bhisphemies  1 " 

"  Who  can  forgive  sins,  but  God  alone  ]  "  '  « 

And  immediately*  when  Jesus''  (knowing  their  thoughts)'  per- 
ceived in  his  spirit  that  they  so  reasoned  within  themselves,"  he, 
answering,'  said  unto  them,- 

"  Wherefore  think  ye  evil  in  your  hearts'!'  And'  why**  reason 
ye  these  things  in  your  hearts  1^  For,'  whether  is  it  easier  to  say 
to  the  sick  of  the  palsy,  '  Thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee ' ;  or  to  say, 
'  Arise,'  and  take  up  thy  bed,  and  walk '  1  But  that  ye  may  know 
that  tlie  Son  of  man  hath  power  on/  earth  to  forgive  sins/'  ^ 

Then  saith  *"  lie  to  *  the  sick  of  the  palsj',' 

"  I  say  unto  thee,  Arise,  and  take  up  thy  bed,'  and  go  thy  way 
into  *•  thine  house." 

And  immediately  he  arose,'  took  "'  up  the  bed  ^  "  whereon  he  lay,' 
and  went  forth  before  them  all,^  and  departed  to  his  own  house, 
glorifying  God.'  But"  wlien  the  multitudes  saw  it,  they  marvelled,''' 
and  were  filled  with  fear,'  and  glorified  God,  which  had  given  such 
power  unto  men,'  saying, 

"  We  never  saw  it  on  this  foshion."  '^ 

"  We  have  seen  strange  things  to-daj'."  ' 

And  after  these  things,'  he  went  forth  again  by  the  seaside  ;  and 
all  the  multitude  resorted  unto  him,  and  he  taught  them.  And 
as  he  '  passed  by,'  he  saw''  a  publican*  named'  Levi'  the  son  of 
Alpheus  sitting  at  the  receipt  of  custom,  and  ^  he  '  said  "  unto  him, 

"  Follow  me." 

And  lie  arosc,^"'  left  all,'  and  followed  him.'' 


CHAPTER    XV. 


Healing  of  a  Man  on  the  Sabbath,  and  consequent  Discussion. 


^ 


AFTER  this  there  was  a  feast  of  the  Jews  ;  and  Jesus  went  up 
to  Jerusalem. 
Now  there  is  at  Jerusalem  by  the  sheep  market  a  pool,  which  is 
called  in  the  Hebrew  tongue  Bethesda,  having  five  porches.  In 
these  laj'  a  great  multitude  of  impotent  folk,  of  blind,  halt,  with- 
ered, waiting  for  the  moving  of  the  water.  (For  an  angel  went 
down  at  a  certain  season  into  the  pool,  and  troubled  the  water  : 
whosoever  then  fii-st  after  the  troubling  of  the  water  stepped  in  was 
made  whole  of  whatsoever  disease  he  had.)  And  a  certain  man  was 
there,  which  had  an  infirmity  thirty  and  eight  years.  When  Jesus 
saw  him  lie,  and  knew  that  he  had  been  now  a  long  time  in  that 
case,  he  saith  unto  him,* 


w 


0- 


4 


TBE  SABBATH.— THE  IMPOTENT  MAN.  303 

"  Wilt  thou  be  made  whole  1 "  ''oi""  ^_6-!M- 

The  impotent  man  answered  him, 

"  Sir,  I  have  no  man,  when  the  water  is  troubled,  to  put  me  into 
the  pool  •  but  while  I  am  coming,  another  steppeth  down  before 
me." 

Jesus  saith  unto  him, 

"  Rise,  take  up  thy  bed,  and  walk." 

And  immediately  the  man  was  made  whole,  and  took  up  his  bed, 
and  walked  :  and  on  the  same  day  was  the  sabbath. 

The  Jews  therefore  said  uuto  him  that  was  cured, 

"It  is  the  sabbath  day  :  it  is  not  lawful  for  thee  to  carry  thy 
bed." 

He  answered  them, 

"  He  that  made  me  whole,  the  same  said  unto  me,  '  Take  up  thy 
bed,  and  walk.'  " 

Then  asked  they  him, 

"  What  man  is  that  which  said  unto  thee,  '  Take  up  thy  bed,  and 
walkT' 

And  he  that  was  healed  wist  not  who  it  was  :  for  Jesus  had  con- 
veyed himself  away,  a  multitude  being  in  that  place. 

Afterward  Jesus  fiudeth  him  in  the  temple,  and  said  unto  him, 

"  Behold,  thou  art  made  whole  :  sin  no  more,  lest  a  worse  thing 
come  unto  thee." 

The  man  departed,  and  told  the  Jews  that  it  was  Jesus,  which 
had  made  him  whole.  And  therefore  did  the  Jews  persecute  Jesus, 
and  sought  to  slay  him,  because  he  had  done  these  things  on  the 
sabbath  day. 

But  Jesus  answered  them, 

"  My  Father  worketh  hitherto,  and  I  work." 

Therefore  the  Jews  sought  the  more  to  kill  him,  because  he  not 
only  had  broken  the  sabbath,  but  said  also  that  God  was  his 
Father,  making  himself  equal  with  God. 

Then  answered  Jesus  and  said  unto  them, 

"  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you.  The  Son  can  do  nothing  of  him- 
self, but  what  he  seeth  the  Father  do  :  for  what  things  soever  he 
doeth,  these  also  doeth  the  Son  likewise.  For  the  Father  loveth 
the  Son,  and  sheweth  him  all  things  that  himself  doeth  :  and  he 
will  shew  him  greater  works  than  these,  that  ye  may  marvel.  For 
as  the  Father  raiseth  iip  the  dead,  and  quickeneth  them  ;  even  so 
the  Son  quickeneth  whom  he  will.  For  the  Father  judgeth  no  man, 
but  hath  committed  all  judgment  unto  the  Son :  that  all  men 
should  honor  the  Son,  even  as  they  honor  the  Father.  He  that 
honoreth  not  the  Son,  honoreth  not  the  Father  which  hath  sent 
him. 

"  Verily,  verily,  I  say  imto  you,  He  that  heareth  my  word,  and 
believeth  on  him  that  sent  me,  hath  everlasting  life,  and  shall  not 
come  into  condemnation  ;  but  is  passed  from  death  unto  life.'' 


^ 


■ff 


^ -^ 

364  THE    GOSPELS   CONSOLIDATED. 

John  V-  25-4i.  "  Vcrilv,  vcrilv,   I   sa\'  unto  you,  The  hour  is  coming,  and  now  is, 

wlicn  the  dead  shall  hear  the  voice  of  the  Son  of  God  :  and  they 
that  hear  shall  live.  For  as  the  Father  hath  life  in  himself;  so 
hath  he  given  to  the  Son  to  have  life  in  himself ;  and  hath  given 
hini  authority  to  execute  judgment  also,  because  he  is  the  Son  of 
man.  Marvel  not  at  this  :  for  the  hour  is  coming,  in  the  which  all 
that  are  in  the  graves  shall  hear  his  voice,  and  shall  come  forth  ; 
they  that  have  done  good,  unto  the  resurrection  of  life ;  and  they 
that  have  done  evil,  unto  the  resurrection  of  damnation. 

"  I  can  of  mine  own  self  do  nothing  :  as  I  hear,  I  judge  :  and  my 
judgment  is  just ;  because  I  seek  not  mine  own  will,  but  the  will 
of  the  Father  which  hath  sent  me. 

"  If  I  bear  witness  of  myself,  my  witness  is  not  true.  Tiierc 
is  another  that  beareth  witness  of  me ;  and  I  know  that  the  wit- 
ness which  he  witnesseth  of  me  is  true.  Ye  sent  unto  John,  and 
he  bare  witness  unto  the  truth.  But  I  receive  not  testimony  from 
man  :  but  these  things  I  say,  that  ye  might  be  saved.  He  was  a 
burning  and  a  sliining  light  :  and  ye  were  willing  for  a  season  to 
rejoice  in  his  light.  But  I  have  greater  witness  than  that  of  John  : 
for  the  works  which  the  Father  hath  given  me  to  finish,  the  same 
works  that  I  do,  bear  witness  of  me,  that  the  Father  hath  sent  me. 
And  the  Father  himself,  which  hath  sent  me,  hath  borne  witness 
of  me.  Ye  have  neither  heard  his  voice  at  any  time,  nor  seen  his 
shape.  And  ye  have  not  his  word  abiding  in  you  :  for  whom  he 
hath  sent,  him  ye  believe  not.  Scarcii  the  scriptures  ;  for  in  them 
ye  think  ye  have  eternal  life  :  and  they  are  they  which  testify  of 
me.  And  ye  will  not  come  to  me,  that  ye  might  have  life.  I  re- 
ceive not  honor  from  men.  But  I  know  you,  that  ye  have  not  the 
love  of  God  in  you.  I  am  come  in  my  Father's  name,  and  ye 
receive  me  not :  if  another  shall  come  in  his  own  name,  him  j-e 
will  receive.  How  can  ye  believe,  which  receive  honor  one  of 
another,  and  seek  not  the  honor  that  cometh  from  God  only  1  Do 
not  think  that  I  will  accuse  you  to  the  Father :  there  is  one  that 
accuseth  you,  even  Moses,  in  whom  ye  trust.  For  had  ye  believed 
Moses,  ye  would  have  believed  me  :  for  he  wrote  of  me.  But  if  ye 
believe  not  his  writings,  how  shall  ye  believe  my  words  1 "  * 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

Christ's  Teachinq  as  to  the  Sabbath.  —  The  Ordination  of  the  Twelve 
Matt,  xii  1.  -^  -^ 

MiTk  ii  23.  Apostles. 

Lukevi.l.  ^ 

t  on  the  sabbath       A    ^^  '*"  Came  to  pass  ^  at  that  time,'  being'"  the  second  sabbath' 
''*■*■  ' "  -^^^  after  the  first,  that '  Jesus '  went '  through  the  corn '  fields  :  ^ 

c  ho,  =  3  '  O  > 

<'an.>  and  his  disciples  were'  a'**  hungred,  and  began,*  as  they  went,^  to' 


t 


#- a 

THE  SABBATH.  365 

pluck"  the  ears  of  corn,  niul  to*  eat,'  rubbing;  tliem  in  their  hands.'   Matt,  xii  1-13 

'  "  Mark  ii.  23-28. 


But  when  ' "  certain  of  the  Pharisees  saw  it  they  said  unto  him,'' 

"Behold,  thy  disciples  do  that  which  is  not  lawful  to  do  upon' 
the  sabbath  day.'/    Why  do  they  ^^  do  so  f  "  *  tdid. 


plucked.  J 


•  And.  3 
''  them.  ■ 


/d;lys 


'  himself.  3 


4^- 


But '  *  Jesus,'  answering,'  said  unto  them, 

"  Have  ye  not  *  read  '  so  much  as  this,'  what  David  did,  when 
he"  and  they  which™  were  with  him'  were  a^"  hungred,' and  ' 
had  need?''  how  he  entered"  into  the  house  of  God,'  in  the  days  of    ''if"*,," 
Abiathar  the  high-priest,'^  and  did  take  and  eat  the  shewbread,  and 
gave  also  to  them  that  were  with  him  ; '  which  it  was  f  not  lawful   !„"tblT' 
for  him  to  eat,  neither  for  them  which  were  with  him,  but  only  '   "  "'^  ai  1 2  3 

•^         o  went.  2  s 

for  the  priests?     Or  have  ye  not  read  in  the  law,  how  that  on  the  ;)is.  23 
sabbath  days  the  priests  in  the  temple  profane  the  sabbath,  and  are  ''*'°'"' 
blameless?     But  I  say  nnto  you,  That  in  this  place  is  one  greater 
than  the  temple.     But  if  ye  had  known  what  this  meaneth, 

"  '  I  will  have  mercy,  and  not  sacrifice,' 

ye  would  not  have  condemned  the  guiltless."  ' 

And  ho  said  unto  them, 

"  The  sabbath  was  made  for  man,  and  not  man  for  the  sabbath  : 
therefore''  the  Son  of  man  is  Lord  also'  of  the  sabbath''  day.'"       '■Fori    That  3 

And  it  came  to  pass  also  on  another  sabbath,'  when  he  was  de- 
parted thence,'  that  he  entered  '  again  '^  into  the  '  synagogue  and   '  wnt  into  their  1 
taught :  and,'  behold,  there  was  a  man '.  there  ^  whose  right  hand 
was  withered.' "     And  they  asked  him,  savins:,  "  ,'"''''■'' !"»'  *>'' , 

*^  '        ^       c"  hand  withered.' 

"  Is  it  lawful  to  heal  on  the  sabbath  days  %  "  '  "'!';'■''  ''"•' »    . 

*  witiiereti  hand  2 

And  the  scribes  and  Pharisees  watched  him,  whether  he  would 
heal '  him '  on  the  sabbath  day ;  that  they  might  find  an  accu- 
sation against  ™  him.  ■<■  aecnse  i  = 

But  he  knew  their  thoughts,  and  said  to  '^  the  man  which  had  the  '  "^^^^l  '*'"' 
withered  hand, 

"  Rise  up,  and  stand  forth  in  the  midst." 

And  he  arose  and  stood  forth. 

Then  said  Jesus  unto  *  them, 

"  I  will  ask  you  one  thing ;  Is  it  lawful  on  the  sabbath  days  to 
do  good,  or  to  do  evil?  to  save  life,  or  to  destroy  it? ''  '*  i,km.« 

But  they  held  their  peace.     And  he  said  unto  them, 

"  What  man  shall  there  be  among  you,  that  shall  have  one  sheep, 
and  if  it  fall  into  a  pit  on  the  sabbath  day,  will  he  not  lay  hold  on 
it,  and  lift  it  out?  How  much  then  is  a  man  better  than  a  sheep? 
Wherefore  it  is  lawful  to  do  well  on  the  sabbath  days.'  " 

And    when   he  had   looked  '   round   about   on  °   them  "  all '   with   '  ">™ '  looking.' 
anger,^  being  grieved  for  the  hardness  of  their  hearts  ho  suith  '  unto "  teaid.: 
the  man, 

"  Stretch  forth  thine  ^  hand."  ^^  " 

And   ho   stretched   it   out:'    and   his   hand/  was  restored    whole  /it 
like '  as  the  other." 


to.  1 


-ff 


-^ 


366  THE   GOSPELS   CONSOLIDATED. 

Matt.  x^2^-4._^^         Then  tlie  Pharisees '  °  were  filled  with  madness  ; '  and  ^  went  out '  ^ 

Luke w  11- 1-      ^^^  counuuned  one  with  another  what   they  might  do  to  Jesus,'" 

.    ,-—  .        and  straightway  took  counsel  with  the  Herodians  against  him,  how 

"  And  tuey.  J  ^  ''  o  j 

''forth.-.:  ^[,g    might  destroy  him.^ 

c  held  a  counril 

against  him.  But  when  Jesus  kncw  it,  ho  withdrew  himself,'  with  his  disciples,'' 

tudT'""'"'  from  thence,'  to  the  sea;''  and  great  multitudes'''  from  Galilee 
followed  him,  and  from  Judtea,  and  from  Jerusalem,  and  from 
Idumea,  and  from  beyond  Jordan  ;  and  they  about  Tyre  and  Sidon, 
a  gi-eat  multitude,  when  they  bad  heard  what  great  things  he  did, 
came  unto  him,-  and  he  healed  them  all.' 

And  be  spake  to  his  disciples,  that  a  small  ship  should  wait  on 
him  because  of  the  multitude,  lest  they  should  throng  him.  For 
he  had  healed  many  ;  insomuch  that  they  pressed  upon  him  for 
to  touch  him,  as  many  as  had  plagues.  And  unclean  spirits,  when 
they  saw  him,  fell  down  before  him,  and  cried,  saying, 
"  Thou  art  the  Son  of  God  !  " 

And  he  straitly  charged  them  that  they  should  not  make  him 
fEsaiajii  known  :"  that  it  might  be  fulfilled  wliich  was  spoken  by'  Isaiali^" 

the  prophet,  saying, 

"Behold  my  servant,  whom  I  liave  chosen  ; 
My  beloved,  in  wliom  my  soul  is  well  pleased  : 
1  will  put  my  spirit  upon  him. 
And  he  shall  show  judgment  to  the  Gentiles. 
He  shall  not  strive,  nor  cry  ; 

Neither  sliall  any  man  liear  liis  voice  in  the  streets. 
A  bruised  reed  shall  he  not  break. 
And  smoking  fla.x  sliall  he  not  quench, 
Till  he  send  forth  judgment  unto  victory. 
/Isaiah xlii  1-S  And  in  his  name  shall  the  Gentiles  trust."' 

ffgcithup.  -'^'iJ   it  came  to  pass  in  those  days,  that  he  went  out  «^  into  a 

mouutain  to  pray,  and  continued  all  night  in  prayer  to  God.     And 

»caUeth,  >  when   it  was   daj-,  he  called*  unto  him 'whom  he  would '^  of  ^  his 

disciples  ;  °  and  they  came  unto  him  :  ^   and  of  them  he  chose  '  and  * 

ordained  ^  twelve,  whom  also  he  named  apostles  ; '  that  they  should 

be  with  him,  and  that  he  might  send   them  forth  to  preach,  and  to 

have  power  to  heal  sicknesses,  and  to  cast  out  devils. '^ 

•  and.  2  Now  the  uamcs   of  the    twelve  apostles  are   these ;   the  first,' ' 

*8urnamed.»        Simou,  whom  he  also  named,'*  and  °  who  is  called  Peter,  and  An- 

ihu.  1  drew  his  brother;  and  James  the  son  of  Zebedee,  and  John  the' 

brother  of  James  ;  and  he  surnamed  them  Boanerges,  which  is  "  The 

sons  of  thunder";''  and   Philip  and  Bartholomew;  and   Matthew" 

the  publican  ; '  and  Thomas,  and  James  the   son  of  Alpheus,  and 

Judas'  or^  Lebbeus,   whose  surname  was  Thaddeus,'  the  brother 

of  James  ; '   and  Simon  the  Cauaanite,'  called  Zelotes,'  and  Judas 

7"'^'^'',   ;    2   Iscariot,"  who"  also  betrayed  him.'" 

"  was  the  traitor.3  '  •J 

And  he  came  down  with  them,  and  stood  in  the  plain,  and  the 
company  of  his  disciples,  and  a  gi-eat  multitude  of  people  out  of  all 
Judsea  and  Jerusalem,  and  from  the  seacoast  of  TjTe  and  Sidon,' 

t^. ^ 


SERMON  ON  THE  MOUNT.  367 

which  camo  to   hear  hiui,  and  to  be  healed  of  their  diseases;  and    Luke ti.  17-10. 
they  that  were  vexed  with  unclean  spirits  :  and  they  were  healed. 
And  the  whole    multitude   sought  to  touch  him  :   for  there  went 
virtue  out  of  him,  and  healed  them  all.' 


CHAPTER    XVII. 
The  Sermon  on  the  Mount. 


AND  seeing  the  multitudes,  he  went  up  into  a  mountain  :  and  »'»»  t.  1-15. 
,  _  '  Luke  Ti.  20-26. 

when   he   was   set,    his   disciples   came   unto    him.^      And  he  — 

lifted  up   his  eyes  on  his  disciples,^  and '   opened   his   mouth,   and 

taught  them,  saying,"  a  .said.  3 

"Blessed  are  the*    poor  in    spirit:    for    theirs'^    is  the  kingdom   ""eye. 3 
of  heaven.  ''  ,;  ood.  3 

"Blessed  are  they'  that  mourn'/  now  :'  for  they'  shall  be  com-  'l^'  , 
forted.^  a  laugh.  3 

"  Blessed  are  the  meek  :  for  they  shall  inherit  the  earth. 

"  Blessed  are  thej'  *  which  '  do  hunger  and  thirst  after  righteous-  ,  t^^ » 
ness  '  now  : '  for  they  *  shall  be  filled. 

"  Blessed  are  the  merciful  :  for  they  shall  obtain  mercy. 

"  Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart  :  for  they  shall  see  God. 

"  Blessed  are  the  peacemakers  :  for  the}'  shall  be  called  the  cliil- 
dren  of  God. 

"  Blessed  are  they  which  are  persecuted  for  righteousness'  sake  : 
for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

"  Blessed  are  ye,  when  men  shall '   hate,'  revile,*  and  persecute 
yon,  and  when  they  shall  separate  j'ou  from  their  company,  and 
shall  reproach  you,  and'  say  all  manner  of  evil  against  you*  falsely,   * "j^'u ""^^."j^"' s 
for  my '  sake.     Rejoice '  ye  in  that  day,  and  leap  for  joy,'  and  be   '  '•"!  ^°^°' 
exceeding  glad  ;  for '  behold,'  great  is  j'our  reward  in  heaven  :  for ' 
in    like  ""    manner    did    their    fathers    unto  "    the    prophets  '    which   "'  'he  like  3 

,  "SO  persecuted 

were  before  j-ou  ! '  tbej-  1 

"  But  woe  unto  you  that  are  rich  !  for  ye  have  received  your 
consolation. 

"  Woe  unto  you  that  are  full  !  for  ye  shall  hunger. 

"  Woe  unto  you  that  laugh  now  !  for  ye  shall  mourn  and  weep. 

"  Woe  unto  you,  when  all  men  shall  speak  well  of  you  !  for  so 
did  their  fathers  to  the  false  prophets.' 

"  Ye  are  the  salt  of  the  earth  :  but  if  the  salt  have  lost  his  savor, 
wherewith  shall  it  be  salted  1  it  is  thenceforth  good  for  nothing,  but 
to  be  cast  out,  and  to  be  trodden  under  foot  of  men. 

"Ye  are  the  light  of  the  world.     A  city  that  is  set  on'  a^°  hill  oan.» 
cannot  be  hid.     Neither  do  men  light  a  candle,  and  put  it  under 
a  bushel,  but  on  a  candlestick ;  and  it  giveth  light  unto  all  that ' 

i ^ 


3G8  THE    GOSPELS   CONSOLIDATED. 

Matt.  Y  15-35.  are  in  the  liouse.  Let  your  light  so  shine  before  men,  that  they 
may  see  your  good  works,  and  glorify  your  Father  which  is  in 
Leaven. 

"  Think  not  that  I  am  come  to  destroy  the  law,  or  the  prophets : 
I  am  not  come  to  destroy,  but  to  fulfil.  For  verily  I  say  unto 
you,  Till  heaven  and  earth  pass,  one  jot  or  one  tittle  shall  in  no 
wise  pass  from  the  law,  till  all  be  fulfilled.  AVhosoever  therefore 
shall  break  one  of  these  least  commandments,  and  shall  teach  men 
so,  he  shall  be  called  the  least  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven  :  but  who- 
soever shall  do  and  teach  them,  the  same  shall  be  called  great  in 
the  kingdom  of  heaven.  For  I  say  unto  you.  That  except  your 
righteousness  shall  exceed  the  righteousness  of  the  scribes  and  I'liari- 
sees,  ye  shall  in  no  case  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

"Ye  have  heard  that  it  was  said  by  them  of  old  time,  'Thou 
shalt  not  kill  ;  and  whosoever  shall  kill  shall  be  in  danger  of  tlie 
judgment ' :  but  I  say  unto  you,  That  whosoever  is  angry  with  his 
brother  without  a  cause  shall  be  in  danger  of  the  judgment :  and 
whosoever  shall  say  to  his  brother,  '  Raca,'  shall  be  in  dauger  of 
the  coimcil  :  but  whosoever  shall  say,  '  Thou  fool,'  shall  be  in  dan- 
ger of  hell  fire.  Therefore  if  thou  bring  thy  gift  to  the  altar,  and 
there  remembercst  that  thy  brother  hath  ought  against  thee ;  leave 
there  thy  gift  before  the  altar,  and  go  thy  way  ;  first  be  reconciled  to 
thy  brother,  and  then  come  and  offer  thy  gift.  Agi-ee  with  tliine 
adversary  quickly,  whiles  thou  art  in  the  wa}'  with  him  ;  lest  at  any 
time  the  adversary  deliver  thee  to  the  judge,  and  the  judge  deliver 
thee  to  the  officer,  and  thou  be  cast  into  prison.  Verily  I  say  imto 
thee.  Thou  shalt  by  no  means  come  out  thence,  till  thou  hast  paid 
the  uttermost  farthing. 

"  Ye  have  heard  that  it  was  said  by  them  of  old  time,  '  Thou 
shalt  not  commit  adultery  '  :  but  I  say  unto  you.  That  whosoever 
looketh  on  a  woman  to  lust  after  her  hath  committed  adultery  with 
her  already  in  his  heart.  And  if  thy  right  eye  offend  thee,  pluck 
it  out,  and  cast  it  from  thee  :  for  it  is  profitable  for  thee  that  one 
of  thy  members  should  perish,  and  not  that  thy  whole  body  should 
be  cast  into  hell.  And  if  thy  right  hand  offend  tiiee,  cut  it  off, 
and  cast  it  from  thee  :  for  it  is  profitable  for  thee  that  one  of  tiiy 
members  should  perish,  and  not  that  thy  whole  body  should  be 
cast  into  hell. 

"  It  hath  been  said,  '  Whc  joever  shall  put  away  his  wife,  let  him 
give  her  a  writing  of  divorcement '  :  but  I  say  luito  you.  That 
whosoever  shall  put  away  his  wife,  saving  for  the  cause  of  forni- 
cation, causeth  her  to  commit  adultery  :  and  whosoever  shall  marry 
her  that  is  divorced  committeth  adulter}'. 

"  Again,  j-e  have  heard  that  it  hath  been  said  by  them  of  old  time, 
'  Thou  shalt  not  forswear  thyself,  but  shalt  perform  vinto  the  Lord 
thine  oaths ' :  but  I  say  unto  you,  Swear  not  at  all ;  neither  liy 
heaven ;  for  it   is   God's  throne  :   nor  by  the  earth ;  for   it  is   his ' 

^ ^ 


[fi — ^ ^ 

SERMON  ON   THE  MOUNT.  369 

footstool  :  neither  by  Jerusalem  ;  for  it  is  the  city  of  the  great  King.    "^'  '■^_~fi'*' 

Neither  shalt  thou  swear  by  thy  head,  because  thou  canst  not  make   ''"]'*  ''■  27-3«, 

•'       •'  '  32-36. 

one  hair  white  or  black.     But  let  jour  communication  be   '  Yea,'  — 

'  j-ea ' ;    '  Nay,'    '  nay  ' ;  for  whatsoever  is  more  than  tliese  cometh 

of  evil. 

"  Ye  have  heard  that  it  hath  been  said,  '  An  ej'e  for  an  eye,  and 

a  tooth  for  a  tooth '  :  but  I  say  unto  you.  That  ye  resist  not  evil  : 

but  whosoever  shall  smite"  thee  on  thy  right*  cheek,  turn  to  him''  a  unto  Mm  that 

the  other  also.     And   if  any  man  ■*  will  sue  thee  at  the  law,   and  '>  the  one  3 

take'  away  thy  coat,/  let  him  have?  thy  cloke*  also.     And  whoso-  dhim.s 

ever  shall  compel  thee  to  go  a  mile,  go  with  him  twain.     Give  to  ''h^'taketh  » 

^  ^  ^  /cloke  3 

him*  that  asketh '  of  thee,  and  from  him  that  would  borrow  of    fforWdnotto 
thee  turn  not  thou  away.'     And  of  him  that  taketh  away  thy  goods  a  coat.  3 
ask  them  not  again.'  "  "'"^  °^  ' 

"  Ye  have  heard  that  it  hath  been  said,  '  Thou  shalt  love  thy 
neighbor,  and  hate  thine  enemy.'  But  I  say  unto  you  which 
hear,  Love  your  enemies,'  bless  them  that  curse  you,  do  good  to 
them  that*  hate  you,  and  pray  for  them  which  despitefully  use  you,  t which. 3 
and  persecute  you ;  that  ye  may  be  the  children  of  your  Father 
which  is  in  heaven  :  for  he  maketh  his  sun  to  rise  on  the  evil  and 
on  the  good,  and  sendeth  rain  on  the  just  and  on  the  unjust.  For 
if  ye  love  them  which  love  you,  what  reward'  have  ye?'  for  sinners  ;  thank.' 
also  love  those  that  love  them.'  Do  not  even  the  publicans  the 
same  'i  And  if  ye  salute  your  brethren  only,  what  do  ye  more  than 
others  1  Do  not  even  the  publicans  so  1 '  And  if  ye  do  good  to 
them  which  do  good  to  you,  what  thank  have  ye  ?  For  sinners  also 
do  even  the  same.  And  if  ye  lend  to  them  of  whom  ye  hope  to 
receive,  what  thank  have  ye  1  For  sinners  also  lend  to  sinners,  to 
receive  as  much  again.  But  love  ye  your  enemies,  and  do  good, 
and  lend,  hoping  for  nothing  again  ;  and  your  reward  shall  be  great, 
and  ye  shall  be  the  children  of  the  Highest :  for  he  is  kind  unto 
the  unthankful  and  to  the  evil.  Be  ye  therefore  merciful,  as  your 
Father  also  is  merciful'  And  ^  be  ye  '  perfect,  even  as  your  Father 
which  is  in  heaven  is  perfect. 

"  Take  heed  that  ye  do  not  your  alms  before  men,  to  be  seen  of 
them  :  otherwise  ye  have  no  reward  of  your  Father  which  is  in 
heaven.  Therefore  when  thou  doest  thine  alms,  do  not  sound  a 
trumpet  before  thee,  as  the  hypocrites  do  in  the  synagogues  and  in 
the  streets,  that  they  may  have  glory  of  men.  Verily  I  say  imto 
you.  They  have  their  reward.  But  when  thou  doest  alms,  let  not 
thy  left  hand  know  what  thy  right  hand  doeth  :  that  thine  alms 
may  be  in  secret  :  and  thy  Father  which  seeth  in  secret  himself 
shall  reward  thee  openly. 

"  And  when  thou  prayest,  thou  shalt  not  be  as  the  hypocrites  are  : 
for  they  love  to  pray  standing  in  the  synagogues  and  in  the  cor- 
ners of  the  streets,  that  they  may  be  seen  of  men.  Verily  I  say 
unto  you,  They  have  their  reward.     But  thou,  when  thou  prayest,^ 

^- ^ -^ 


tfi- 


, ^ 

370  THE    GOSPELS    CONSOLIDATED. 

Matt.  TT^-ao.  enter  into  thy  closet,  and  when  thou  hast  shut  thy  door,  pray  to 
tin-  Fatlier  wliich  is  in  secret ;  and  thy  Father  which  seeth  in  secret 
shall  reward  thee  openlj-.  But  when  ye  pray,  use  not  vain  repe- 
titions, as  the  heatlien  do  :  for  they  think  that  they  shall  be  heard 
for  their  much  speaking.  Be  not  ye  therefore  like  unto  them  :  for 
your  Father  knoweth  what  things  ye  have  need  of,  before  ye  ask 
him.     After  this  manner  therefore  pray  ye  :  — 

"Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven, 
Hallowed  be  thy  name. 
Thy  kingdom  come. 

Tliy  will  be  done  in  earth,  as  it  is  in  heaven. 
Give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread. 
And  forgive  us  our  debts,  as  we  forgive  our  debtors. 
And  lead  us  not  into  temptation,  but  deliver  us  from  evil  ; 
For  thine  is  the  kingdom,  and  the  power,  and  the  glory,  forever. 
Amen. 

"  For  if  ye  forgive  men  their  trespasses,  your  heavenly  Father 
will  also  forgive  j-oii  :  but  if  ye  forgive  not  men  their  trespasses, 
neither  will  your  Father  forgive  your  trespasses. 

"  Moreover  when  ye  fast,  be  not,  as  the  hypocrites,  of  a  sad  coun- 
tenance :  for  they  disfigure  their  faces,  that  they  may  appear  unto 
men  to  fast.  Verily  I  say  >into  you.  They  have  their  reward. 
But  thou,  when  thou  fastest,  anoint  thine  head,  and  wash  thy  face ; 
that  thou  appear  not  unto  men  to  ftist,  but  unto  th}-  Father  which 
is  in  secret  :  and  thy  Father  which  seeth  in  secret  shall  reward 
thee  openly. 

"  Lay  not  up  for  yourselves  treasures  upon  earth,  where  moth  and 
rust  doth  corrupt,  and  where  thieves  break  through  and  steal :  but 
lay  up  for  yourselves  treasures  in  heaven,  where  neither  moth  nor 
rust  doth  corrupt,  and  where  thieves  do  not  break  through  nor 
steal :  for  where  your  treasure  is,  there  will  your  heart  be  also.  The 
light  of  the  body  is  the  eye  :  if  therefore  thine  eye  be  single,  thy 
whole  body  shall  be  full  of  light.  But  if  thine  eye  be  evil,  thy 
whole  body  shall  be  full  of  darkness.  If  therefore  the  light  that 
is  in  thee  be  darkness,  how  great  is  that  darkness  !  No  man  can 
serve  two  masters  :  for  either  he  will  hate  the  one,  and  love  the 
other ;  or  else  he  will  hold  to  the  one,  and  despise  the  other.  Ye 
cannot  serve  God  and  mammon.  Therefore  I  say  unto  you,  Take 
no  thought  for  \o\\r  life,  what  ye  shall  eat,  or  what  ye  shall  drink  ; 
nor  j-et  for  your  body,  what  j-e  shall  put  on.  Is  not  the  life  more 
than  meat,  and  the  body  than  raiment  ]  Behold  the  fowls  of  the 
air ;  for  they  sow  not,  neither  do  they  reap,  nor  gather  into  bams ; 
yet  your  heavenly  Father  feedeth  them.  Are  ye  not  much  better 
than  they  1  Which  of  you  by  taking  thought  can  add  one  cubit 
unto  his  stature  ]  And  why  take  ye  thought  for  raiment  'i  Con- 
sider the  lilies  of  the  field,  how  they  grow  ;  they  toil  not,  neither  do 
they  spin  :  and  yet  I  say  unto  you.  That  even  Solomon  in  all  his 
glory  was  not   aiTayed  like  one  of  these.      Wherefore,  if  God  so  ^ 


SERMON  ON   THE  MOUNT.  371 

clothe  the  grass  of  tlie  field,  which  to-d<ay  is,  and  to-morrow  is  cast   *■'»"  vi.  30-.34. 

into  the  oven,    shall   he  not  much  more  clothe  you,  0  j-e  of  little    Luk.vi  31,  S7- 

faith  %     Therefore  take  no  thought,  saying  '  What  shall  we  eat  1 '  or,        "  — 

'What  shall  we  drink?'  or,    'Wherewithal  shall  we  be   clothed]' 

(for  after  all  these  things  do  the  Gentiles  seek  :)  for  your  heavenly 

Father  knoweth  that  ye  have  need  of  all  these  things.     But  seek 

ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  his  righteousness  ;  and  all  these 

things  shall  be  added  unto  you.      Take  therefore  no  thought  for 

the  mon-ow  :  for  the  morrow  shall  take  thought  for  the  things  of 

itself.     Sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof. 

"Judge  not,  and  ye  shall  not  be  "  judged.'     For  with  what  judg-   <>  that  ye  be  not.i 
ment  ye  judge,  ye  shall  be  judged  :'  condemn  not,  and  ye  shall  not 
be  condemned  :  forgive,  and  ye  shall  be  forgiven  :  give,  and  it  shall 
be  given  unto  you  ;  good   measure,   pressed  down,   and  shaken  to- 
gether, and  running  over,   shall  men  give  into  your  bosom.     For'  tAnd  1 
with  the  same  "^  measure  that  ye  mete  withal  it  shall  be  measured   cwhat.i 
to  you  again." 

And  he  spake  a  parable  unto  them, 

"  Can  the  lilind  lead  the  blind  ?     Shall  they  not  both  fall  into 
the  ditch  ]      The  disciple  is  not  above  his  master :  but  every  one 
that  is  perfect  shall  be  as  his  master.     And  why  beholdest  thou  the 
mote  that  is  in  thy  brother's  eye,  but  perceivesf*  not  the  beam   ''™°^WereEt.i 
that  is  in  thine  own   eye?     Either'   how  canst/  thou  say  to  thy  /wiit  > 
brother,  'Brother,  let  me  pull  out  the  mote  that  is  in?  thine  eye,'   !;outof.i 
when  thou  thyself  beholdest  not  the  beam  that*  is  in  thine  own   '' 'b"a;„'"i''°'''' * 
eye  1     Thou  hypocrite,  cast  out  first  the  beam  out  of  thine  own  eye, 
and  then  shalt  thou  see  clearly  to  pull  '  out  the  mote  that  is  m^   icast.  1 
thy  brother's  ej'e.' 

"  Give  not  that  which  is  holy  unto  the  dogs,  neither  cast  ye  your 
pearls  before  swine,  lest  they  trample  them  under  their  feet,  and 
turn  again  and  rend  you. 

"Ask,  and  it  shall  be  given  j'ou  ;  seek,  and  ye  shall  find;  knock, 
and  it  shall  be  opened  unto  you  :  for  every  one  that  asketh  receiv- 
eth  ;  and  he  that  seeketh  findeth  ;  and  to  him  that  knocketh  it  shall 
be  opened.  Or  what  man  is  there  of  you,  whom  if  his  son  ask  bread, 
will  he  give  him  a  stone  ?  Or  if  he  ask  a  fish,  will  he  give  him  a 
serpent  1  If  ye  then,  being  evil,  know  how  to  give  good  gifts  unto 
your  children,  how  much  more  shall  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven 
give  good  things  to  them  that  ask  him?  Therefore  all  things 
whatsoever  *  ye  would  that  men  should  do  to  you,  do  ye  even  so  to  k  And  .is.  1 
them  : '  for  this  is  the  law  and  the  prophets.  '  '>,'.™  •"  '•"^"^ 

'■       '  ,  likewise.  2 

"  Enter  ye  in  at  the  strait  gate  :  for  wide  is  the  gate,  and  broad  is 
the  way,  that  leadeth  to  destruction,  and  many  there  be  which  go 
in  thereat :  because  strait  is  the  gate,  and  naiTow  is  the  way,  which 
leadeth  mito  life,  and  few  there  be  that  find  it.  Beware  of  false 
prophets,  which  come  to  you  in  sheep's  clothing,  but  inwardly  they 
are  ravening  wolves.     Ye  shall  know  them  by  their  fruits.'     For' 

^ ^ ^ 


a- 


372 


THE    GOSPELS    CONSOLIDATED. 


-a 


a  For  of  thorns 
mc-u  do  not 
gather  fi}?^.* 

6  nor  of  11  bram- 
ble bush  gather 
thev  grapes.  ^ 

c  bringeth  not.  3 

d  corrupt.  3 

t  doth.  3 


/my  sayings.  3 
9likenbimunto.i 


)  upon.  1 

*■  flood  arose.  3 


n  shall  be  likened 

unt^).  1 
"  that,  a 
pun.' 
q  earth .  * 
r  against  which.^ 


every  tree  is  known  by  his  own  fniit.^  Do  men  gather  grapes  of 
thoni.s,"  or  figs  of  thistles  1'  Even  so  evoiy  good  tree  bringeth  forth 
good  fruit ;  but  a  corrupt  tree  bringeth  forth  evil  fruit.  A  good 
tree  cannot  bring '  forth  evil"*  fruit,  neither  can '  a  con-upt  tree 
bring  forth  good  fruit.  Every  tree  that  bringeth  not  forth  good 
fruit  is  hewn  down,  and  cast  into  the  fire.  Wherefore  by  their 
fruits  ye  shall  know  them."  A  good  man  out  of  the  good  treasure 
of  his  heart  bringeth  forth  that  which  is  good  ;  and  an  evil  man 
out  of  the  evil  treasure  of  his  heart  bringeth  forth  that  which  is 
evil :  for  of  the  abundance  of  the  heart  his  mouth  spcaketh. 

"  And  why  call  ye  me,  '  Lord,  Lord,'  and  do  not  tlie  things  which  I 
sayl'  Not  every  one  that  saith  unto  me,  'Lord,  Lord,'  shall  enter 
into  the  kingdom  of  heaven ;  but  he  that  doeth  the  will  of  my 
Father  which  is  in  heaven.  Many  will  say  to  me  in  that  day,  'Lord, 
Lord,  have  we  not  prophesied  in  thy  name  %  and  in  thy  name  have 
cast  out  devils  1  and  in  thy  name  done  many  wonderful  works  % ' 
And  then  will  I  profess  unto  them,  '  I  never  knew  you  :  depart 
from  me,  ye  that  work  iniquity.' 

"Therefore  whosoever' cometh  to  me,  and'  heareth  these  saj-ings 
of  mine,/  and  doeth  them,  I  will '  sliew  you  to  whom  he  is  like  : 
he  is  like  s'  a  '  wise  man,  which  built  his  *  house,'  and  digged  deep, 
and  laid  the  foundation  on '  a  rock  :  and  when  the  '  rain  descended, 
and  the  floods  came,*  and  the  winds  blew,'  and  '  the  stream  beat 
vehemently  upon  that  house,  and  could  not  shake  it  :  °  it  fell  not, 
for  it  was  founded  upon  a  rock.'  But°'  everyone"'  that  heareth 
these  sayings  of  mine,  and  doeth  them  not,'  is  lilce  '"a  foolish  man, 
which"  built  his''  house,'  w-ithout  a  foundation,'  upon  the  sand  : » 
and  the  rain  descended,  and  the  floods  came,  and  the  winds  blew, 
and'''  the  stream  did  beat  vehemently  '  upon  that  house;  and  '  iiii- 
mediately  it  fell ;'  and  great  was  the  fall 'of  it."  ' 

And  it  came  to  pass,  when  Jesus  had  ended  these  sayings,  the 
people  were  astonished  at  his  doctrine  :  for  he  taught  them  as  one 
having  authority,  and  not  as  the  scribes.' 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

The  Healing  of  the  Centurion's  Sey^ant,  and  the  Raising  of  the 
Widow's  Son.  at  Nain. 


RD- 


Matt.™.  IB.      ~VrO\V  when'  Jesus'"  had  ended  all  his  sayings  in  the  audience 
,    , —  -L^     of  the  people,'  and '   was   come  down  from  the   mountain, 

u  he.  3  I       r     ' 

wwas.i  great    multitudes    followed    him,'    and'    he'"    entered    into    Caper- 

naum. 

And  a  certain  centurion's  servant,  who  was  dear  unto  him,   was 
X  there  came.  1      gjck  and  ready  to  die.     And  when  he  heard  of  Jesus,   he  sent'" 


-ff 


^ -^ 

THE   CENTURION.  — NAIK  373 

unto  him  the  elders  of  the  Jews,"  beseeching  him   that  he   would   "uk's^iL  3^-l5^ 
come  and  heal  his  servant,^  and  saying,  »  a  centlHion.  i 

"  Lord,  my  servant  lieth  at  home,  sick  of  the  palsy,  grievously 
tormented."  ' 

And  when  they  came  to  Jesus,  they  besought  him  instantly,  say- 
ing, that  he  was  worthy  for  whom  he  should  do  this :  "  For  he 
loveth  our  nation,  and  he  hath  built  us  a  synagogue."  ' 

And  Jesus  saith  unto  '  them,^  '  6  him.i 

"  I  will  come  and  heal  him." ' 

Then  Jesus  went  with  them. 

And  when  he  was  now  not  far  from  the   house,   the  centurion 

„.-.,.„.  .      1  •  c  answered  and 

sent  friends  to  him,""  saymg  unto  him,  ^^ji 

"Lord,   trouble   not   thyself:    for   I    am   not   worthy  that   thou 
shouldest  enter  "^  under  my  roof:  wherefore  neither  thought  I  my-  dcome.i 
self  worthy  to  come  unto  thee:  but'  speak  the'  word  only,  and  <  say  in  a. » 
my  servant   shall   be    healed.     For   I    also   am   a   man  set  under 
authority,   having  under  me  soldiers,   and  I  say  unto  one,/  'Go,'  /totwsmani 
and  he  goeth  ;    and  to  another,   '  Come,'  and  he  cometh  ;  and  to 
my  servant,  '  Do  this,'  and  he  doeth  it." 

When  Jesus  heard  these  things.^  he  mai-velled  at  him,  and  turned  ^it.i 
him  about,  and  said  unto  the  people  '  tliat  followed  him,'  *  to  them.i 

"  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  I  have  not  found  so  great  faith,  no,  not 
in  Israel.  And  I  say  unto  you.  That  many  shall  come  from  the 
east  and  west,  and  shall  sit  down  with  Abraham,  and  Isaac,  and 
Jacob,  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  But  the  children  of  the  king- 
dom shall  be  cast  out  into  outer  darkness  :  there  shall  be  weep- 
ing and  gnashing  of  teeth." 

And  Jesus  said  unto '  them  that  were  sent  by '  the  centurion, 

"Go' your  ^' way;  and^  say/  'As  thou  hast  believed,  so  be  it  'thy.' 
done  unto  thee.'  "  * 

And  his  servant  was  healed  in  the  self-same  hour.'  And  they 
that  were  sent,  returning  to  the  house,  found  the  servant  whole  that 
had  been  sick.  " 

And  it  came  to  pass  the  day  after,  that  he  went  into  a  city 
called  Nain;  and  many  of  his  disciples  went  with  him,  and 
much  people.  Now  when  he  came  nigh  to  the  gate  of  the  city, 
behold,  there  was  a  dead  man  carried  out,  the  only  son  of  hia 
mother,  and  she  was  a  widow  :  and  much  people  of  the  city  was 
with  her. 

And  when  the  Lord  saw  her,  he  had  compassion  on  her,  and  said 
unto  her, 

"  Weep  not." 

And  he  came  and  touched  the  bier:  and  they  that  bare  him 
stood  still.     And  he  said, 

"  Young  man,  I  say  unto  thee,  Arise." 

And  he  that  was  dead  sat  up,  and  began  to  speak.  And  he  de- 
livered him  to  his  mother." 

^ - ^ 


a-- 


374 


THE   GOSPELS   CONSOLIDATED. 


-a 


J6, 17.  Xwd  there  came  a  fear  on  all :  and  they  glorified  God,  saj-iiifr, 
"  That  a  great  prophet  is  risen  up  among  us  "  ;  and,  "  That  God  liatii 
visited  his  people."  And  this  rumor  of  him  went  forth  through- 
out all  Judiiea,  and  throughout  all  the  region  round  about.' 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

Jesris  and  the  Disciples  of  John  Baptist.  —  Jesus'  Testimony  of  John 
Baptist,  —  his  Condemnation  of  the  unbelieving  Cities.  —  Jesus 
anointed  bi/  a  Woman  at  a  Pharisee's  House. 


0.\IH1.3 

tan.l  .lohn.s 
<*  aud  said,  l 
t/do  we  look,  i 


f  answered  and 
/shew.  ' 
a  what.  > 
A  do  he.nr  and 


i-  to  the  poor  the 
gospel  is 
preached.^ 


9  which.* 
r  houses,  i 


<  Is  Dot. 
r  but.  ' 

c  God.  3 


nVTOW  when  John  had  heard  in  the  prison  the  works  of  Christ,* 
-Ll  for'"  the  disciples  of  John  shewed  him  of  all  these  things,' 
he,'  *  calling  unto  him  two  of  his  disciples,  sent  them  to  Jesu.s, 
saj'ing''  unto  him,* 

"  Art  thou  he  that  should  come  ?  or  look  we  "*  for  another  1 " 

AVheu  the  men  were  come  unto  him,  they  said, 

"  John  Baptist  hath  sent  us  unto  thee,  saying,  '  Art  thou  he  that 
should  come  ]  or  look  we  for  another  1 '  " 

And  in  the  same  hour  he  cured  many  of  their  infii-mitics  and 
plagues,  and  of  evil  spirits ;  and  unto  many  that  were  blind  he  gave 
sight. 

Tiien  Jesus  answering '  said  unto  them, 

"Go  your  way,  and  tell/  John  '  again  those «"  things  which  ye' 
have  seen  and  heard:*  how  that'  the  blind  receive  their  sight,' 
and  the  lame  walk,  the  lepers  are  cleansed,  and  the  deaf  hear,  the 
dead  are  raised  up,  and  the  poor  have  the  gospel  preached  to  them.* 
And  blessed  is  he  whosoever  shall  not  be  offended  in  me."  ■ 

And  when '  the  messengers  of  John  *"  were  departed,'  Jesus ' " 
began  to  speak  "  unto  the  people  p  concerning  John, 

"  What  went  ye  out  into  the  wilderness  for  to  see  1  A  reed  shaken 
with  the  wind  ]  But  what  went  ye  out  for  to  see  I  A  man  clothed 
in  soft  raiment  1  Behold,  they  '  that  »  wear  soft  clothing  '  and'  are 
gorgeously  apparelled,  and  live  delicately,  are  in  kings'  courts. "■ 
But  what  went  ye  out  for  to  see  1  A  prophet  1  Yea,  I  say  unto 
you,  and  much  more  than  a  prophet.'  For  this  is  he,  of  whom  it  is 
written. 

"  '  Behold,  I  send  my  messenger  before  thy  face, 
Which  sh.all  prepare  tliy  way  before  thee.''' 

For,'  verily '  I  say  unto  j'ou.  Among  those '  that  are  bom  of  women 
there'  hath  not  risen"  a  greater*  prophet '  than  John  the  Baptist : 
notwithstanding™  he  that  is  least  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven  '  is 
greater  than  he.  And  from  the  days  of  John  the  Baptist  until  now 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  suffei-eth  violence,  and  the  violent  take  it  l)y 
force.      For  all  the  prophets  and  the  law  prophesied  until  John.* 


fr- 


w 


4^^ ^ a 

JOHN  BAPTIST.— UNBELIEVING    CITIES.  375 

And  if  ve  will  receive  it,  this  is'  Elijah,^"  which   was  for  to  come.   'i"«xi- 14-30. 

Luke  Tii.29-38. 

He  that  hath   ears  to  liear,  let  him  hear.'     And  all  the  people  that  — 

^       '^  a  Bias  1 

heard  him,  and  the  j)ublicans,  justified  God,  being  baptized  with 
the  baptism  of  John.  But  the  Pharisees  and  lawyers  rejected  the 
counsel  of  God  against  themselves,  being  not  baptized  of  him." 

And  the  Lord  said, 

"Whereunto  then*   shall   I  liken  the  men  of  this''  generation?  *  But  whereuDto 
and  to  what  are  they  like  *?     They  are  ^  like  unto  children  sitting  ,i  n  is.  i 
iu  the  market-place,'  and  calling  one  to  another,/  and  saying,  '  We 
have  piped  unto  you,  and  ye  have  not  danced  ;  we  have  mourned  ' 
unto'  f  you  and  ye  have  not  wept.'  *     For  John  the  Baptist  came   )' Rented  i 
neither  eating  bread  nor  drinking  w^ine ;  and  ye '  sav,  '  He  hath  a   '  ••'ey- ' 
devil.'     The  Son  of  man  is  come*  eating   and   drinking;  and  ye"   'came.i 
say,  '  Behold  a  gluttonous  man,  and  a  wiuebibber,  a  friend  of  publi- 
cans and  sinners  !'     But  wisdom  is  justified  of  all  her  children."* 

Then  began  he  to  upbraid  the  cities  wherein  most  of  his  mighty 
works  were  done,  because  they  repented  not : 

"  Woe  unto  thee,  Choraziu  !  Woe  unto  thee,  Bethsaida  !  for  if 
the  mighty  works,  which  were  done  in  you,  had  been  done  in  Tyre 
and  Sidon,  they  would  have  repented  long  ago  in  sackcloth  and  ashes. 
But  I  say  unto  you.  It  shall  be  more  tolerable  for  Tj're  and  Sidon 
at  the  day  of  judgment,  than  for  yon.  And  thou,  Capernaum,  which 
art  exalted  unto  heaven,  shalt  be  brought  down  to  hell  :  for  if 
the  mighty  works,  which  have  been  done  in  thee,  had  been  done 
in  Sodom,  it  would  have  remained  until  this  day.  But  I  say  unto 
you.  That  it  shall  be  more  tolerable  for  the  land  of  Sodom  in  the 
day  of  judgment,  than  for  thee." 

At  that  time  Jesus  answered  and  said, 

"  I  thank  thee,  0  Father,  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  because 
thou  hast  hid  these  things  from  the  wise  and  prudent,  and  hast 
revealed  them  unto  babes.  Even  so.  Father :  for  so  it  seemed 
good  in  thy  sight. 

"All  things  are  delivered  unto  me  of  my  Father:  and  no  man 
knoweth  the  Son,  but  the  Father ;  neither  kuoweth  any  man  the 
Father,  save  the  Son,  and  he  to  whomsoever  the  Son  will  reveal 
him. 

"  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I 
will  give  you  rest.  Take  my  yoke  upon  you,  and  learn  of  me, 
for  I  am  meek  and  lowly  in  heart :  and  ye  shall  find  rest  nnto 
yoiu-  souls.     For  my  yoke  is  easy,  and  my  burden  is  light." ' 

And  one  of  the  Pharisees  desired  him  that  he  would  eat  with  him. 
And  he  went  into  the  Pharisee's  house,  and  sat  down  to  meat.  And, 
behold,  a  woman  in  the  city,  which  was  a  sinnei-,  when  she  knew 
that  Jesus  sat  at  meat  in  the  Pharisee's  house,  brought  an  alabaster 
bos  of  ointment,  and  stood  at  his  feet  behind  him  weeping,  and  be- 
gan to  wash  his  feet  with  tears,  and  did  wipe  them  with  the  hairs  of 
her  head,  and  kissed  his  feet,  and  anointed  them  with  the  ointment.^ 

^ ^ 


f 


-a 


THE    GOSPELS   CONSOLIDATED. 

Now  when  tlie  Pharisee  wliicli  h;ul  liiddon  liim  saw  it,  he  spake 
withiu  himself,  sayiug, 

"  This  man,  if  lie  were  a  prophet,  wcmlil  iiave  known  who  and 
what  manner  of  woman  this  is  that  tonchetb  him  ;  for  she  is  a 
siuuer." 

And  Jesus  answering  said  unto  him, 

"  Simon,  I  have  somewhat  to  say  uuto  thee." 

And  he  saith, 

"  Master,  say  on." 

"  There  was  a  certain  creditor  which  had  two  dchtors  :  the  one 
owed  five  hundred  pence,  and  the  other  fifty.  And  when  they  had 
nothing  to  pay,  he  frankly  forgave  them  both.  Tell  me  therefore, 
which  of  them  will  love  him  most?" 

Simon  answered  and  said, 

"  I  suppose  that  he,  to  whom  he  forgave  most." 

And  he  said  mito  him, 

"Thou  hast  rightly  judged." 

And  he  turned  to  the  woman,  and  said  unto  Simon, 

"Scest  thou  this  woman'!  I  entered  into  thine  house,  thou 
gavest  mc  no  water  for  my  feet  :  but  she  hath  washed  my  feet  with 
teal's,  and  wiped  them  with  the  haii-s  of  her  head.  Thou  gavest 
me  no  kiss  :  but  this  woman  since  the  time  I  came  in  hath  not  ceased 
to  kiss  my  feet.  My  head  with  oil  thou  didst  not  anoint :  but  this 
woman  hath  anointed  my  feet  with  ointment.  Wherefoi-e  I  say 
unto  thee,  Her  sins,  which  arc  many,  arc  forgiven ;  for  she  loved 
much  :  but  to  whom  little  is  forgiven,  the  same  lovetii  little." 

And  he  said  imto  her, 

"  Thy  sins  arc  forgiven." 

And  they  that  sat  at  meat  with  him  began  to  say  within  them- 
selves, 

"  Who  is  this  that  forgiveth  sins  also  V 

And  he  said  to  the  woman, 

"  Thy  faith  hath  saved  thee  ;  go  in  peace."  ^ 


CHAPTER   XX. 

Another  Circuit  tkrour/h  Ga/i/ie.  —  Denunciation  of  the  Scribes  and 
Pharisees  on  the  Occasion  of  a  Devil  being  cast  out,  and  uf  a  Dinner 
at  a  Pharisee's  House. 


Luke  Tiii.  1  - 
a  he.  3 


AND  it  came  to  pass  afterward,  that'  Jesus'"  went  throughout 
every  city  aud  village,  preaching  and  shewing  the  glad  tidings 
of  the  kingdom  of  God  :  and  the  twelve  were  with  him,  and  certain         i 
women,  which  had  been  healed  of  evil  spirits  and  infirmities,  Mary 
called  Magdalene,  out  of  whom  went  seven  devils,  and  Joanna  the  ^ 

t^ Et 


ANOTHER    CIRCUIT    THROUGH   GALILEE.  377 


14,  15, 


wife   of   Chuza    Herod's    steward,    and   Susanna,   and    many  others,    Jl^'t?.",?^  „?^- 

'  '  .;  '     Mark  111.  19-30. 

which  ministered  unto  him  of  their  substance;^  ''^'•■' 

And  they  went  iuto^  a'"  house.      And  the  multitude  cometh      iT-23. 

together  again,  so  that  they  could  not  so  much  as  eat  bread.     And  "m.^ 

when  his  friends  heard  of  it,  they  went  out  to  lay  hold  on  him  : 

for  they  said, 

"  He  is  beside  himself"  ^ 

Then  was  brought  unto  him  one  possessed  with  a  devil,'  and  it 

,  .        .       6  was  casting  out 

was''  blind   and   dumb:    and   he  healed   him,''  insomuch   that'"   it      adcvii. a 
came  to  pass,  when  the  devil  was  gone  out,^  that^  the  blind  and 
dumb  both  spake  and  saw.     And  all  the  people '  wondered,'  and  ^ 
were  amazed,  and  said, 

"  Is  not  this  the  Son  of  David  1 " 

But  when  tlie  Pharisees,'  and  the  scribes  which  came  down  from 
Jerusalem  -  heard  it,'  some  of  them  "^  said,  ''  tiiey' 

"This  fellow '  =  hath  Beelzebub,  and-  doth  not  cast  out  devils,  citi-^a 
but  by  Beelzebub,  the  prince/  of  the  devils,'  through^  whom^  he  /chief. s 
casteth  '  them  ^  out."  ^s  »  ho  out  dcriis.  a 

But'*  Jesus,''  knowing*  their  thoughts,'  called  them  unto  him,   ,'4ct  i' 
and  said  unto  them  in  parables, 

"How  can    Satan    cast  out  Satau'?'^      Every  kingdom'^  divided   '' Xm bc.^'""" 
against  itself  is  brought  to  desolation  :'  that  kingdom  cannot  stand,   '"^^''o''  *  '"'"■'^ 
And  ^   every  city  or   house'"'   divided   against   itself'"'    cannot-"   "laiiouses 
stand  '  but  °  folleth.'     And  if  Satan  cast  out  Satan,  he  is  divided     that  iimise  can- 
against  himself;  how  shall  then  his  kingdom  stand  !'    If  he  rise  up 
against  himself,  and  bo^  also^  divided  he  cannot  stand,  but  hath 
an   end.^       Because  ye  say  that  1  cast  out  devils  through  Beelze- 
bub.'    And  if  I  by  Beelzebub   cast  out  devils,  by  whom  do  your 
children"  cast  them  out?  therefore  they  shall  be  your  judges.     But  osons.» 
if  I  cast  out  devils  by  the  Spirit?  of  God,   then,'  no  doubt.'  the  p  with  the  Anger.' 
kingdom  of  God  is  come  unto'  yon.'  vupon.' 

"  When  a  strong  man   armed  keepeth  his  palace,  his  goods  are 
in  peace,'  no  man   can''  enter  hito  his^  house,  and   spoil '^  them,^  .or  else  how  can.' 
except  he '  first  bind  the  strong  man  : '  but  when  a  stronger  than      man-s.°i  a 
he  shall  come  upon  him  and   overcome  him,  he  taketh   from   him 
all  his  armor  wherein  he  trusted ; '  and  then  he  will  spoil  his  house,' 
and'  divide  ^  "  his  spoils.'  "divideth.^ 

"  He  that  is  not  with  me  is  .against  me  ;  and  he  tliat  gathcreth 
not  with  me  scattereth  abroad.  Wherefore  '  verily  '  I  say  unto  you. 
All  manner  of  sin  '  ="  shall  be  forgiven  unto  men,'  '  and  blasphemies  * 
wherewith  soever  they  shall  blaspheme  :  but  he  that  shall  blas- 
pheme' against  the  Holy  Ghost  hath  never  forgiveness,"  but  is  in  zthcbiasphem} 
danger  of  eternal  damnation.'^  And  whosoever  speaketh  a  word  °  f^prcn  unto 
against  the  Son  of  man,  it  shall  be  forgiven  him  :  but  whosoever 
speaketh  against  the  Holy  Ghost,  it  shall  not  be  forgiven  him, 
neither  in  this  world,  neither  in  the  world  to  come." '  (Because  they 
said,  "He  hath  an  unclean  spirit."  ^)      "  Either  make  the  tree  good,' 

cy ^ 


■  tlif  sons  of 
y  blasphemy. ' 


mea. 


r 


378 


-^ 


THE    GOSPELS   CONSOLIDATED. 


Matt.  xii.  33-45. 

Luke  xi.  II!,  24- 

27,29-36. 


a  then.  I 

6  and  others.  - 

c  sought  of  him 
a  sign  3 

f'  began  to  say.  3 
e  seeketh. 1 


9  Xinevc. » 
/( because.  > 


;uul  his  fruit  good  ;  or  else  make  the  tree  corrupt,  iiud  liis  fruit 
corrupt  :  for  the  tree  is  known  by  liis  fruit.  0  generation  of  vipers, 
how  can  ye,  being  evil,  speak  good  things  1  for  out  of  the  abun- 
dance of  the  heart  the  mouth  speaketh.  A  good  man  out  of  the 
good  treasure  of  the  heart  briugeth  forth  good  things :  and  an 
evil  man  out  of  the  evil  treasure  bringeth  forth  evil  things.  But  I 
say  unto  you.  That  every  idle  word  that  men  shall  speak,  they 
shall  give  account  thereof  in  the  day  of  judgment.  For  by  thy 
words  thou  shalt  be  justified,  and  by  thy  words  thou  shalt  be 
condemned."  ^ 

And  when  the  people  were  gathered  thick  together,^ "  certain  of 
the  scribes  and  of  the  Pharisees,''"  tempting  him,'  auswei'ed,  say- 
ing, " 

"  Master,  we  would  sec  '  from  thee  *  a  sign  from  heaven."  ' 

But  he  answered  and  said ''  unto  them,* 

"  This  is  an  evil '  and  adultei-ous  generation  : '  they  seek  '  '  after 
a  sign ;  and  there  shall  no  sign  be  given  to  it,  but  the  sign  of  the 
prophet '  Jonah.'/  For  as  '  Jonah  ^-f  was  a  sign  unto  the  Ninevites, 
so  sliall  also  the  Son  of  man  be  to  tliis  generation.^  For  as  *  Jo- 
nah ^/  was  three  days  and  three  nights  in  the  whale's  belly  :  so 
shall  the  Sou  of  man  be  three  days  and  three  nights  in  the  heart 
of  the  earth.  The  men  of  Nineveh's  shall  rise  up  in  the  judgment 
with  this  generation  and  .shall  condemn  it:  for*  they  repented  at 
the  preaching  of*  Jonah  ; 'Z  and,  behold,  a  greater  than*  Jonah'/ 
is  here.  The  queen  of  the  south  shall  rise  up  in  the  judgment 
with  the  men  of  this  generation,  and  condemn  them  : '  for  she  came 
from  the  uttermost  *  parts  of  the  earth  to  hear  the  wisdom  of  Solo- 
mon ;  and,  behold,  a  greater  than  Solomon  is  here.* 

"  No  man,  when  he  hath  lighted  a  candle,  putteth  it  in  a  secret 
place,  neither  under  a  bushel,  but  on  a  candlestick,  that  they  which 
come  in  may  see  the  light.  The  light  of  the  body  is  the  eye  : 
therefore  when  thine  eye  is  single,  thy  whole  body  also  is  full  of 
light  ;  but  when  thine  eye  is  evil,  thy  body  also  is  full  of  darkness. 
Take  heed  therefore  that  the  light  which  is  in  thee  be  not  dark- 
ness. If  thy  whole  body  therefore  be  fidl  of  light,  having  no  part 
dark,  the  whole  shall  be  full  of  light,  as  when  tlie  bright  shining  of 
a  candle  doth  give  thee  light." 

"When  the  unclean  spirit  is  gone  out  of  a  man,  he  walketh 
through  dry  places,  seeking  rest ;  and  finding'  none,^  then*  he  saith, 
'I  will  return  inito""  my  house'  from*  .whence  I  came  out.'  And 
when  he  cometh,"  he  findcth  it'  empty,*  swept  and  garnished.  Then 
goeth  he,'  and  taketh  with  himself"  seven  other  spirits  more  wicked 
than  himself,  and  they  enter  in  and  dwell  there  :  and  the  last  state 
of  that  man  is  worse  than  the  first.  Even  so  shall  it  be  also  unto 
this  wicked  generation."  * 

And  it  came  to  pass,  as  he  spake  these  things,  a  certain  woman 
of  the  company  lifted  up  her  voice,  and  said  unto  him,' 


^- 


i 


[& 


HYPO  CRIST. 


57U 


"Blessed  is  the  womb  that  bare  thee,   aud  the  naps  which  thou    Matt.  }tii.46-50. 

,       ^  ,     J  ,  „  "^    '  Mark  ui.  31-35. 

hast  sucked  !  Luke  viu.  19-21. 

But  he  said,  37-48."  ' 

"  Yea,  rather,  blessed  are  they  that  hear  the  word  of  God,  aud 
keep  it."  ^ 

While  he  yet  talked  to  the  people,'"  and  the  multitude  sat  about   "then. 2 3 
him,^  behold,  there  came  -  to  him  his  mother  and  his  brethren,  and 
coald*uot  come  at  him  for  the  press,^  and  standing'  without,^  dc-  !•  stood. > 
siring  to  speak  with  him,'  sent  unto  him,  calling  him.^ 

Then  one  '  said  unto  him,  c  an.i  they.  = 

"  Behold,  thy  mother  and  thy  brethren  stand  without,'  aud  ^  seek      ''"'.'  ''>'  '"tain 
for  thee,-  desiring  to '  see''  aud^  to  speak  with  thee." 

But''  he  answered  and  said  unto  him'  that  told  him,'  saTino-,^  </And  ->3 

"  Who  is  my  mother  1.  and  who  arc/  my  brethren  ? "  '  /'orT 

And  he  looked  round  about  on  them  which  sat  about  him,  and  ^ 
stretched  ?  forth  his  hand  toward  his  disciples,  and  said,  „  he  stretchej.  1 

"  Behold  my  mother  and  my  brethren  ! '  Tliey  °  are  these  which 
hear  the  word  of  God,  aud  do  it.^  For  whosoever  shall  do  the  will 
of  God  ^  my  Father  which  is  in  heaven,  the  same  is  my  brother, 
and '  my  -  sister,  and  mother."  ' 

Aud  as  he  spake,  a  certain  Pharisee  besought  him  to  dine  with 
him  :  aud  he  went  in,  and  sat  down  to  meat.  Aud  when  the 
Pharisee  saw  it,  he  marvelled  that  he  had  not  first  washed  before 
dinner. 

Aud  the  Lord  said  unto  him, 

"  Now  do  ye  Pharisees  make  clean  the  outside  of  the  cup  and 
the  platter ;  but  your  inward  part  is  full  of  ravening  and  wicked- 
ness. Ye  fools,  did  not  he  that  made  that  which  is  without  make 
that  which  is  within  also]  But  rather  give  alms  of  such  things 
as  ye  have  ;  and,  behold,  all  things  are  clean  unto  you. 

"  But  woe  unto  you,  Pharisees  !  for  ye  tithe  mint  aud  rue  and  all 
manner  of  herbs,  and  pass  over  judgment  and  the  love  of  God  :  these 
ought  ye  to  have  done,  and  not  to  leave  the  other  undone. 

"  Woe  unto  you,  Pharisees  !  for  ye  love  the  uppermost  seats  in 
the  synagogues,  and  greetings  in  the  markets. 

"  Woe  unto  you,  scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypocrites  !  for  ye  are 
as  graves  which  appear  not,  aud  the  meu  that  walk  over  them  are 
not  awai'e  of  them." 

Then  answered  one  of  the  lawyers,  and  said  unto  him. 

"  Master,  thus  saying  thou  reproachest  us  also." 

And  he  said, 

"^Aoe  unto  you  also,  ye  lawyers!  for  ye  lade  men  with  bm-dens 
grievous  to  be  borne,  and  ye  yourselves  touch  not  the  burdens  with 
one  of  your  fingers. 

"  Woe  unto  you  !  for  ye  build  the  sepulchres  of  the  prophets, 
aud  your  fathers  killed  them.  Truly  ye  bear  witness  that  ye  allow 
the  deeds  of  your  fothers  :  for  they  indeed  killed  them,  aud  yc  build  ' 

^3 ' . ^ 


^ a 

380  THE    GOSPELS    CONSOLIDATED. 

Lukcxi. 4S-M.  tlieir  scpulclu-es.  Therefore  also  said  the  wisdom  of  God,  'I  will 
send  them  prophets  and  apostles,  and  some  of  them  they  shall  slay 
and  persecute ' :  that  the  blood  of  all  the  prophets,  which  was  shed 
from  the  foundation  of  the  world,  may  be  required  of  this  gencra- 

'1  ZichariM. 3  tion  ;  from  the  blood  of  Abel  unto  the  son  of^  Zachariah,'"  which 
perished  between  the  altar  and  the  temple  :  -verily  I  say  mito  yon. 
It  shall  be  required  of  this  generation. 

"  Woe  unto  you,  lawyers  !  for  ye  have  taken  away  the  key  of 
knowledge  :  yo  entered  not  in  yourselves,  and  them  that  were  enter- 
ing in  ye  hindei-ed." 

And  as  he  said  these  things  unto  them,  the  scribes  and  the  Phari- 
sees began  to  ui-ge  him  vehemently,  and  to  provoke  him  to  speak 
of  many  things  :  laying  wait  for  him,  and  seeking  to  catch  some- 
thing out  of  his  mouth  that  they  might  accuse  him.^ 


^ ff 


a- 


-a 


ANALYTICAL    INDEX. 


Aduhery,  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  253. 

Almsniviiir),  tlie  Sei'mon  on  the  Mount,  257. 

Anrjdic  Minislratioiis,  the  faitli  of  a  devout  Jew, 
14;  a  striking  feature  of  the  period,  30;  faith 
of  the  church  and  people,  30 ;  relation  to 
monotheism  among  the  Greeks,  32. 

Anna,  the  prophetess,  26. 

Annunciation,  the,  8. 

Ajioslles,  the,  as  distinguished  from  disciples, 
2l>5. 

Ar.cnELAUs,  the  successor  of  Herod,  30. 

Baptism,  John's  formula,  and  the  meaning  of 
tlic  act,  76  ;  Christ's  baptism,  and  the  Jewish 
law,  85;  learned  writers  on  the  subject,  85; 
Christ's  own  interpretation  of  tlie  rite,  86 ; 
its  symbolic  meaning  and  Ibrmula,  167  ;  the 
disciples'  dispute  about  purifying,  168;  the 
dispute  not  yet  ended,  169. 

Beatitudes.     See  Sirnion  on  the  Mount. 

Beatitudes,  the  Mount  of  the,  230. 

Beelzebub,  critical  examination  of  the  name, 
291, 

"Beg,"  the  strained  use  of  the  word,  282. 

Benevolence,  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  256. 

Bethesda,  the  Pool  of,  199. 

Bethlehem,  to-day,  and  in  the  time  of  Christ,  23. 

Bethsaida,  the  judgment  of  Christ  upon,  285. 

"Born  again,"  physical  and  moral  re-birth,  163. 

Cana.     See  Wedding. 

Capernaum,  147  ;  the  last  traces  of,  149  ;  a  year 
of  beneficence  in,  212;  the  judgment  iipon, 
by  Jesus,  285  ;  its  scenery,  313. 

Carpenter,  the  trade  of,  now  and  in  Christ's  time 
in  Palestine,  51. 

Caves  in  Palestine  and  their  use,  22. 

Centurion  of  Capernaum,  the,  275. 

Charaotek  of  Jesus,  110;  tenderness  in  per- 
sonal intercourse,  112;  not  regarded  as  a  com- 
mon man,  113;  power  of  Ids  look,  114  ;  power  ] 
as  a  speaker,  115;  impressive  manner,  116; 
popular  conceptions,  117;  assumptions  of  sov- 
ereign authority,  207. 

Childhood  of  Jesus,  points  for  special  aitcn- 
tion,  58;  brothers  and  sisters,  58;  Matthew 
declares  he  would  be  called  a  Nazarene,  59. 


Chorazin,  the  judgment  of  Christ  upon,  285. 
Christian  Art,  deification  of  the  Virgin,  12  :  trib- 
utes to  Mary  as  the  type  of  motherhood,  25. 
Christian  Church,  its  gradual  unfolding  and  in- 
terpretation of  spiritual  Gospel  truths,  5. 
Church  Organization  was  not  tlie  aim  of  Christ, 
133. 

Chuza,  Herod's  steward,  the  wife  of,  288,  302. 

"  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor,"  286. 

CoNANT,  Professor  T.  J.,  on  the  word  "  beg," 
282;  on  the  name  Beelzebub,  291. 

Cofetousness,  a  warning,  305. 

Critics  of  the  Gospels,  6. 

David,  King,  the  consecrated  bread,  206. 

Design  of  Christ's  teaching,  the  direct  influence 
of  the  Divine  nature  upon  the  human  heart, 
118. 

Disci;ilts,  the  permanent  formation  of  the  disciple 
family,  223;  Simon,  James,  and  John,  224; 
Matthew,  otiierwise  Levi,  224  ;  occupations 
and  social  position,  225 ;  character  and  per- 
sonal relations  with  Jesus,  225 ;  errors  and 
failings,  225 ;  as  distinguished  from  apostles, 
225  ;  why  chosen,  226. 

Discourses  of  Jesus,  illustrations  from  nature, 
49 ;  reasons  for  simplicity,  51  ;  influence  of  the 
Book  of  Proverbs,  53;  to  Nicodemus,  163;  to 
the  woman  of  Samaria,  178;  before  the  San- 
hedrim, 203. 

Divine  Injincncrs  upon  mental  transformations, 
81. 

Divinity,  the  claims  of  Jesus  to,  221. 

Divorce,  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  254. 

Dixon,  W.  H.,  view  of  Nazareth,  169. 

Doctors,  the,  in  the  Temple,  56. 

Dullixger,  Dk.,  on  the  Pharisees,  123. 

Education  of  Jesus,  223. 

Education  among  the  Jews,  222 ,  courses  of  studv, 
222 ;  teaching  of  trades  at  schools,  222 ;  the 
rabbis,  even,  were  taught  such,  222;  why  the 
disciples  were  named  after  trades  taught  at 
school,  222. 

Elias  the  propliet,  70;  dramatic  incidents  of 
his  career,  71. 

Elizabeth.     See  Zacharias. 


^- 


-ff 


r 


382 


A  NA  L  TTIOAL   INDEX. 


-a 


Ei.mcott's  "Lectures,"  on  tlic  duration  of 
Christ's  ministry,  198. 

Essenes,  organization,  observances,  and  faith  of, 
127.- 

Fasting,  tlic  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  263. 

Feasts,  the  three  annual  at  Jerusalem,  150;  the 
Passover,  151;  of  I'urim,  I'JS.  See  also  ,/e- 
nisiitem. 

Foiyii-eiiess  of  Sin,  the  repentant  Mafrdalene, 
279 ;  Clu'ist's  enunciation  of  power  to  for- 
give sin,  220 

Fiitiiri'  Life,  Christ's  familiarity  with,  308;  its 
influence  upon  his  tcaihiiigs,  308. 

Galilee,  local  influences  upon  Christ's  life,  45  ; 
scenery,  46,  312:  histori  al  associations,  47  ; 
animal  and  vegetable  life,  48 ;  admixture  of 
pasan  population,  121  ;  the  centre  of  Christ's 
public  life,  313  ;  Macgregor's  description,  314. 

Galileans,  reply  of  Jesus  on  news  of  their  slaugh- 
ter, 310 

Gates  of  Oriental  citic?  the  evening  resort,  214. 

Genesanlli,  the  plain  of,  313;  Christ's  sulitiry 
walks,  314,  propagation  of  .sound  in  that  re- 
gion, 315  ,  its  desolation  in  later  times,  316. 

Gospels,  the  four,  the  only  material  for  a  life 
of  Christ,  1  ;  their  valun  as  testimony,  2  ; 
authority  and  motives  for  writing  them,  2 ; 
what  ihcy  arc,  their  moral  rather  than  chro- 
nolo;rical  similarity,  3  ;  compared  to  Xeno- 
|ibon's  Memorabilia  of  Socrates,  4 ;  their  ref- 
erence to  the  mental  altitude  and  customs  of 
iheir  lime,  4  ;  Jews  their  authors,  4,  necessity 
readapting  with,  a ;  the  life  of  Christ  should 
be  rewritten  for  every  age,  5 ;  their  deeper 
meaning  to  us  than  to  the  primitive  disciple, 
6 ;  the  two  cliusses  of  Gospel  critics,  6 ;  to 
which  cl.iss  the  present  writer  belongs,  7 ; 
providential  design  of  the  Gospels,  8;  their 
structure,  110;  arc  collective  reminiscences 
of  Christ,  110;  the  myhical  theory  in  regard 
to  them,  320. 

Gova-nmint  a  constitutional  necessity  in  man, 
134,  physical  and  moral,  considered,  308. 

Grain-fields  of  Galilee,  317. 

Greek-  and  Hebrew  minds  contrasted,  228. 

Haltin,  the  scene  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount, 
230. 

Heathen,  the  word  as  n  designation,  250. 

Hehrens,  original  tribal  organization,  63  ;  the 
priests  the  ruling  class,  63;  the  prophetic 
nature,  64. 

Helirew  Women,  education  and  associations,  13; 
participation  in  public  affairs,  26. 

Hebreiv  and  Greek  minds  contrasted,  228. 

Herod,  his  alarm  on  hearing  of  Jesus,  27  ;  con- 
sults the  Magi  and  sends  them  to  seek  Jesus, 
27  ;  they  see  Jesus  and  depart  to  their  homes. 


28  ;  Herod's  greater  alarm,  —  the  massacre  of 
children  ordered,  29  ;  the  historical  truth  of 
the  statement,  29 ;  the  death  of  Herod,  23 ; 
succeeded  by  Archelaus,  30 ;  his  suspicious 
and  cruel  character,  302  ;  Jesus  ha<l  friends 
among  his  household,  302 ;  the  wife  of  Her- 
od's steward,  288,  302. 

Holi/  Ghost,  the  descent  of,  \\]nm  Jesus,  SO. 

Ilumanitarinnism.     See  Nature  cj' Jesus. 

Immortalittj  always  assumed  in  Christ's  teach- 
ings, 308. 

Incarnation.     Sec  Nature  of  Jesus. 

Inspiration  of  the  Scriptures,  its  theory,  61  ;  how 
the  claim  should  be  understood,  62 

Israel.     See  Ilihreics. 

Jaroli's  Well,  the  discourse  of  Jesus  to  the  wo- 
man of  Samaria,  — locality  of  the  well,  176; 
its  authenticity,  177;  he  asks  for  water,  178; 
the  woman's  ini])lied  taunts,  1 79  ;  the  "  liv- 
ing water,"  179;  the  return  of  the  disciples 
interrupts  the  conversation,  182  ;  its  effect  up- 
on the  woman's  mind,  183;  she  informs  her 
towns-people,  184;  he  remains  with  them 
two  days,  1 84  ;  Jesus  thus  set  himself  against 
the  cxelusivcncss  of  the  Jewish  Church,  184; 
his  treatment  of  a  sinning  woman,  185;  the 
incident  a  fit  prelude  to  his  opening  public 
life,  186;  objections  to  the  narrative,  186; 
his  reply  to  the  discijjles  who  reproached  him, 
186. 

Jerusalem,  love  of  the  Jews  for  it,  9 ;  the  an- 
nual festival,  54  ;  the  roads,  54 ;  sacred  songs 
of  the  travellers,  55  ;  the  unconstrained  char- 
acter of  the  festival,  55  ;  the  approach  to  the 
city,  151 ;  Jerusalem  to  Galilee,  171. 

Jesus,  the  Christ,  birth  of  Jesus,  22;  laid  in 
a  manger,  22 ;  opinions  and  customs  .assign 
various  dates  to  the  nativity,  23 ;  the  voice 
from  the  heavens  and  the  coming  of  the  shep- 
herds, 24 ;  circumcision,  and  presentation  in 
the  Temple,  25 ;  Simeon  and  Anna,  26  ,  the 
excitement  at  Jerusalem,  26  ;  Herod  consults 
the  Magi,  27 ;  the  guiding  star,  27  ;  their  wor- 
ship and  gifts,  28 ;  the  flight  into  Egypt  and 
return  to  Nazareth,  29 ;  the  nature  of  Jesus 
(sec  Nature  of  .Tesus) ;  childhood  and  resi- 
dence at  Nazareth,  42 ;  his  visit  to  Jerusalem 
at  twelve  years  of  age,  the  last  glimpse  of  him 
for  sixteen  or  eighteen  years,  43  ;  his  probable 
youthful  experiences  and  character,  43 ;  his 
brothers  and  sisters,  58  ;  the  local  influences 
of  Galilee, —  the  bad  reputation  of  Nazareth, 
its  beautiful  scenery,  46  ;  historical  associa- 
tions of  Galilee,  47 ;  influence  of  the  region 
upon  his  genius  considered,  48-51  ;  his  edu- 
cation was  little  beyond  his  father's  trade  of 
carpenter,  51  ;  what  the  term  included,  51 ; 


C&- 


-4? 


a- 


A  NA  L  7TTCA  L   INDEX. 


383 


his  knowledge  of  the  Old  Testament  gained 
in  the  synagogue,  53 ;  tlie  influence  of  that 
knowledge  upon  his  mind,  53 ;  his  first  visit 
to  Jerusalem,  54  ;  the  festival  over,  his  par- 
ents return,  55  ;  he  is  missed  after  a  day's  jour- 
ney, 56  ;  they  find  him  after  three  days  among 
the  doetors  in  the  Temple,  56  ;  John,  the  fore- 
runner of  Jesus  (see  John);  is  baptized  by 
John,  79  ;    the  sign   of  the  dove  descending, 

—  a  voice  from  heaven,  80;  Jesus  from  that 
moment  became  the  Christ,  81 ;  he  begins 
the  new  dispensation,  81  ;  the  temptation  in 
the  wilderness  (see  Temptation)  ;  the  personal 
appearance  of  Jesus  (see  Personal  Appear- 
ance) ;  the  design  of  his  teaching,  118;  social 
and  religious  condition  of  Palestine,  121  (see 
a\so  Jews,  Pharisees,  Sadducees,  Essenes,  &c.) ; 
the  expectations  of  a  Messiah,  and  his  real  de- 
sign, 129;  its  progressive  development,  131; 
he  did  not  aim  to  organize  a  church,  133; 
retained  full  communion  with  the  Jewish 
Churcli,  134;  his  return  home  after  the  temp- 
tation, 136  ;  he  clung  to  the  common  life  of 
the  people,  136;  he  was  the  "Son  of  Man," 
138;  he  went  to  Cana,  138;  the  wedding 
feast  (see  Wedding  ) ;  his  life  for  the  next  two 
years,  146;  visit  to  Capernaum  and  subse- 
quent home  there,  147  ;  his  miracles  and  life 
at  Capernaum,  148;  his  foilure  to  win  the 
people  to  a  spiritual  life,  148;  Jesus  went  to 
Jenisalem,    149;    the  fjrst  Judfean   ministry, 

—  the  approach  to  Jerusalem,  151  ;  the  Tem- 
ple, 152;  the  traffic  therein,  155;  Jesus  drove 
out  the  cattle  and  overthrew  the  tables,  157; 
is  ques  ioned  by  the  officers  of  the  Temple, 
158;  the  meaning  of  his  reply,  160;  the  com- 
ing of  Nicodemus  by  night,  162  ;  importance 
of  the  conversation,  165  ;  omission  in  John's 
Gospel  record  of  this  period,  165;  conjectures 
upon  the  subject,  166;  only  mention  is  that 
Christ  baptized  in  Juda;a,  167 ;  he  early 
ceased  to  perform  it,  168;  tlie  dispute  among 
the  disciples  "about  purifying,"  168;  the 
danger  of  division  between  Christ's  and  John's 
disciples,  169  ;  CIn-ist's  return  to  Galilee,  170  ; 
Samaria,  176;  Jesus  at  Jacob's  well  (see 
Jacob's  )Vell);  went  into  Galilee,  189,  heals 
the  nobleman's  son  at  Capernaum,  190.  Jesus 
came  to  Nazareth,  192  ;  invited  to  read  in 
the  synagogue,  —  announces  the  fulfilment  of 
the  Scriptures,  193-  194  ;  rage  of  the  congre- 
gation, 194;  who  take  him  out  to  kill  him,— 
his  escape,  195  ;  probable  scene  of  the  attempt, 
195;  Capernaum  thenceforth  the  home  of 
Jesus,  198;  he  again  visits  Jerusalem,  198; 
healing  the  man  at  the  pool  of  Bethesda,  200 ; 
the  sick  man  unlawfully  carries  his  bed  upon 


the  Sabbath,  200;  anger  of  the  Jews  tliercat, 
200;  Jesus  is  summoned  before  the  Sanhe- 
drim, 202;  his  discourse  in  reply  to  accusa- 
tions, 203;  he  claims  Divine  anthoritv,  203; 
now  first  calls  himself  the  Son  of  God,  203  ; 
wonder  and  rage  of  the  court  at  his  defiance 
of  their  authority,  204  ;  it  was  bis  first  collis- 
ion with  the  Ten-pie  party,  205 ;  the  jiolicy 
of  the  Temple  tlienceforth  hostile,  205;  Jesus 
was  watched  by  spies,  205  ;  the  plucking  of 
grain  by  the  disciples  a  new  accusation,  205 ; 
his  replies,  206 ;  his  sovereignty  of  spirit 
in  these  contents,  207  ;  heals  the  paralytic  man 
in  the  synagofrue,  207  ;  again  accused,  —  his 
replies  208  ;  the  conflict  of  his  love  with  in- 
humanity, 208;  he  went  to  Capernaum,  311  ; 
an  unobstructed  year  of  beneficence,  211  ;  the 
popular  wond  r  and  admiration,  212;  his 
preaching  in  the  synagogues,  213;  heals  a 
man  with  an  unclean  devil,  213;  withdraws 
to  Peter's  house,  214  ;  heals  the  mother-in-law 
of  Peter,  214  ;  healing  at  the  city  gates,  214  ; 
the  Pharisees  silent  for  a  time,  215;  Jesus 
now  made  his  first  circuit  through  Galilee, 
216;  suggestions  of  routes  taken,  217;  the 
excitement  everywhere  caused,  217,;  Herod's 
probable  impressions,  217;  the  healing  of  a 
leper,  218;  respect  of  Jesus  for  original  Mo- 
saic rites,  218;  the  paralytic  man  lowered 
through  a  house  roof,  220 ;  Jesus  forgives  his 
sins,  —  the  excitement  of  Pharisees  present, 
220  ;  he  declares  his  power  to  forgive,  221  ;  it 
was  a  claim  of  divinity,  221  ;  his  use  of  para- 
bles, 223 ;  the  permanent  formation  of  his 
disciple  family  near  Capernaum,  223 ;  the 
miraculous  draught  of  fishes,  224 ;  calls  Si- 
mon, James,  and  John  to  follow  him,  224  ; 
the  call  of  Matthew,  otherwise  Levi,  224  (see 
Disciples) ;  character  of  JesHs's  teaching  at  this 
period,  227  ;  the  Sermon  on  the  JNIount  (see 
Sermon);  his  return  to  Capernaum,  274; 
healing  of  the  centurion's  servant,  275  ;  the 
widow's  son  restored  to  life,  276 ;  the  effect 
of  this  miracle,  277  ;  at  the  house  of  Simon 
the  Pharisee,  278 ;  the  repentant  Magdalene, 
278  ;  the  message  of  John  in  prison,  281  ; 
his  warnings  to  Beihsaida,  Chor.izin,  and  Ca- 
pernaum, 285  ;  absence  of  sympathy  from  his 
family  connections,  287  ;  his  companions  at 
this  time,  287  ;  charges  of  the  Scribes  and 
Pharisees,  288  ;  his  replies,  289  ;  he  charges 
them  with  blasphemy,  290;  they  said  he  was 
aided  by  Beelzebub,  291  ;  efforts  of  the  Tem- 
ple party  to  embroil  him  with  his  country- 
men, 292  ;  his  at;itude  in  face  of  this  danger, 
293  ;  the  cry,  "  Is  not  this  the  son  of  David  ? " 
first  beard,  293  ;  the   parable  of  the   unclean 


^- 


-^ 


[& 


-a 


584 


ANALYTICAL   INDEX. 


spirit,  294  ;  blessing  of  his  nioilior  l)y  a  wo- 
man listener,  295 ;  his  mother  and  bretlircn 
desire  to  speak  with  him,  296 ;  declares  wlio 
are  his  mother  and  brethren,  296 ;  invited  to 
dine  by  n  Pharisee,  297 ;  is  questioned  about 
tlie  washing  of  hands,  298 ;  the  Scribes  and 
Pharisees  urge  him  to  speak  of  many  things 
to  accuse  liim,  298 ;  he  rebukes  their  inward 
liypoerisy,  298  ;  around  the  Sea  of  Galilee, 
300;  eight  parables,  301  ;  efforts  to  embroil 
him  with  the  people,  303;  they  were  uncon- 
sciously his  body-guard,  31)3  ;  the  Pliarisees 
watched  for  heresy,  303  ;  the  i)rudence  of  hia 
course,  304  ;  his  discourse  to  his  disciples  be- 
fore a  multitude,  as  recorded  by  Luke,  304 ; 
a  young  man  appeals  against  his  brother,  —  is 
warned  against  covetousness,  305 ;  parables, 
306  ;  is  told  of  the  slaughter  of  the  Galileans, 
310;  the  labor  of  days  and  weeks  epitomized 
in  the  record  of  this  time,  312  ;  statement  by 
John  of  its  extent,  312  ;  manner  of  his  life  at 
this  time,  312;  his  solitary  walks  about  Ge- 
nesareth,  314;  his  sermon  from  a  boat,  316; 
his  mctliod  of  teaching  and  the  theory  of 
myths,  320  ;  some  parables  considered,  322 ; 
the  voice  ceased,  and  the  enthusiasm  of  the 
crowd  had  gone  out,  324. 

Jews,  their  moral  nature,  "7  ;  inequality  of  con- 
dition and  precarious  existence,  121  ;  political 
subjection,  122;  their  glory  in  the  law  as 
God's  chosen  people,  122;  priesthood  domi- 
nated by  the  Romans,  123;  forms  of  religious 
development,  —  the  Pharisee,  the  Saildueec, 
and  the  Esscne,  123;  their  social  habits  and 
observances.  139. 

Jewish  CImrrh,  its  expected  deliverance,  1. 

Jewish  Nation,  tenderness  of  Jesus  toward  the 
good  of  its  ])ast,  250. 

Joanna,  wife  of  Herod's  steward,  288. 

Joiix,  the  forerunner  of  Jesus,  Zacharias  and 
Elizabeth,  8-20  ;  his  character  in  childhooil, 
20;  the  prototype  of  Elias  (Elijah)  the  prophet, 
70;  in  what  the  similarity  consisted,  71;  his 
brief  history,  70 ;  his  mission  as  the  forerun- 
ner of  Jesus,  72 ;   his  downright  earnestness, 

73  ;   his  preaching  was  secular,  not  spiritual, 

74  ;  his  meaning  of  baptism,  76  ;  his  formula 
and  meaning  of  baptism,  76;  the  relation  of 
his  discourses  to  the  spiritual  truths  which 
Christ  imfoldert,  77 ;  John  conceived  no  new 
ideal  of  morality,  77 ;  the  effects  of  his 
preaching,  77  ;  excitement  in  Jerusalem,  78 ; 
is  questioned  hy  messengers  from  the  San- 
hedrim, 78 ;  he  declares  to  them  the  com 
ing  of  Jesus,  79  ;  Jesus  comes  to  him  for 
baptism,  79 ;  the  sign  from  heaven,  80 ;  the 
mystery  surrounding  John,  82  ;  his  ministry 


after  Christ's  baptism,  —  disputes  about  "pu- 
rifying," 168;  John's  noble  character  exempli- 
fied, 170;  jealousy  of  Herod  Anti]]as,  — John 
denounces  his  wickedness  and  is  impiisoncd, 
83  j  the  demand  for  his  head  by  the  daughter  of 
Herodias,  —  his  death,  and  burial  by  his  disci- 
ples, 84:  his  burial-place,  like  that  of  Moses, 
unknown,  84 ;  analogies  in  the  history  of 
Moses  and  John,  84;  his  long  imprisonment 
at  Macha;rus,  280;  his  doubting  message  to 
Jesus,  and  the  reply,  281  ;  conduct  of  the  peo- 
ple toward  him  and  Jesus.  283  ;  the  most  per- 
fect representation  of  his  Master's  sjiirit,  226. 

Jordan,  the,  historical  associations,  outshone  by 
the  baptism  of  Christ,  80. 

JosKPii,  the  carpenter,  the  Virgin  Mary's  es- 
pousal to  him,  12;  he  was  of  the  house  of 
David,  15;  his  occupation,  21 ;  few  remaining 
details  of  his  history,  21  ;  his  death  probal)ly 
before  the  public  ministry  of  Christ,  21  ;  how 
he  is  represented  on  pictures  of  the  Holy 
Family,  21 ;  sacred  history  relates  nothing  of 
him,  52. 

Judaa  maintained  the  old  Jewish  stock,  dislike 
of  the  Samaritans,  121. 

Jiida'an  Hills,  the  road  along  the,  —  scenery  and 
memories,  171. 

Kim/ilom  of  Christ,  the,  nol  of  this  world,  .'502. 

KiTTo's  Biblical  Ci/i-lojHidia  on  Christ  in  the 
synagogne,  192. 

Lange,  on  the  word  ''Nazarene,"  60. 

Law  and  the  Prophets,  Jesus  came  not  to  destroy, 
249  ;  Christ's  spiritual  ethics  contested  their 
pojiuliir  interpretation,  252. 

Ixiivs,  their  true  relation  of  servants,  not  mas- 
ters, 209. 

Lentolus,  fictitious  letter  on  appearance  of 
Christ,  106. 

Leprosy,  a  description  of,  a  1 9. 

Levitts,  the,  64,  67. 

Lives  of  Christ  and  Uarmonies,  4 ;  necessity  for 
new  adaptations  for  every  age,  5. 

Lord's  Prayer,  the,  257. 

Luke,  his  motive  for  writing  his  Gospel,  3 ; 
why  called  the  evangelist  of  Greece,  32. 

Macoregor,  on  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  314,  315. 

Magdalene,  Mary,  one  of  Christ's  attendants, 
288. 

Maiji,  the,  mission  to  find  Jesus,  27 ;  the  guiding 
star  in  the  east,  27  ;  they  worshipped  him  and 
presented  gifts,  28  ;  retuiTi  to  their  homes,  28. 

Afanr/er,  what  it  probably  was,  22. 

Mary,  the  mother  of  Jesus,  the  little  known  of 
her,  —  the  light  of  imagination  thrown  around 
her  name,  11  ;  the  reason  why  she  is  rev- 
erenced and  worshipped,  1 1  ;  a  mother's  love 
and  forbearance  the  nearest  image  of  Divine 


ft 


-ff 


fl- 


ANALYTICAL  INDEX. 


385 


tenderness  which  the  soul  can  form,  11  ;  the 
deification  of  the  Virgin  by  art,  12;  the  resi- 
dence, lineage,  and  espousal  of  Mary,  12  ;  tlie 
habits  and  associations  of  her  life,  13;  her 
familiarity  with  the  Hebrew  Scriptures,  —  she 
was  imbued  with  their  spirit,  13  ;  reality  to 
her  of  tlie  angelic  manifestation,  14  ;  her  ideas 
of  the  promised  deliverance  of  Israel,  15  ;  she 
went  into  the  city  of  Juda,  to  the  house  of 
Zacharias,  16 ;  her  revelations  to  Elizabeth, 
17  ;  the  exalted  expectations  of  both  women, 
17  ;  the  song  of  Mary,  17  ;  its  similarity  with 
the  song  of  Hannah,  18;  Mary's  return  to 
Nazareth,  19  ;  the  journey  to  Bethlehem,  22  ; 
the  birth  of  Jesus,  22  ;  a  cottage  probably  the 
'  piMcc,  22  ;  the  manger  was  in  a  cave  exca- 
vated from  the  cottage,  22  ;  the  coming  of  the 
shcplierds,  24  ;  purification  and  thank-otFering, 

25  ;  the  prophecy  of  Simeon  and  of  Anna, 

26  ;  the  visit  of  the  Magi,  27  ;  flight  into 
Egypt,  and  return  to  Nazareth,  29 ;  the  most 
intimate  communion  of  Jesus  was  with  his 
motlier,  52  ;  other  children  of  Joseph  and 
Mary,  59  ;  blessed  by  a  woman  among 
Chiist's  listeners,  295  ;  Mary's  anxiety  for  her 
son,  295  ;  she  with  his  brethren  desire  to  speak 
with  him,  296  ;  "  Who  is  my  mother?  "  296; 
it  was  a  rebuke  to  them,  296. 

Massacre  of  the  Innocents,  29. 

Materials  for  a  Life  of  Jesus,  the  Gospels  only,  — 
he  wrote  nothing,  1. 

M.iTTHEW,  his  mental  character,  60 ;  the  term 
"  Nazarene,"  60. 

Mkssiah,  the,  promises  and  expectations  of,  10  ; 
the  popular  expectations,  —  the  real  design  of 
Jesus,  129  ;  the  annunciation  of  a  suflJering 
Messiah,  131  ;  the  kingdom  of,  when  at  hand, 
311. 

Miracles,  their  rejection  leads  to  Pantheism,  6  ; 
their  character  and  credibility,  14  ;  angelic 
manifestations  and  the  Hebrews,  14;  relation 
to  a  higher  law  of  niiture,  119;  deeper  moral 
significance  toward  the  close  of  Christ's  life, 
132;  the  wedding  at  Cana,  141  ;  at  Caper- 
naum, 148  ;  healing  the  nobleman's  son,  190; 
the  impotent  man,  200  ;  the  paralytic  man, 
207  ;  the  man  with  an  unclean  devil,  213  ; 
healing  of  Peter's  mother-in-law,  214  ;  healing 
at  the  city  gate,  214;  healing  the  leper,  218  ; 
the  paralytic  man,  220 ;  miraculous  draught 
of  fishes,  224  ;  the  humanity  of  Christ's  mir- 
acles, 228 ;  the  centurion's  servant,  275  ;  res- 
urrection of  the  widow's  sou,  276  ;  unfriendly 
popular  criticism,  285. 

Moral  Beliefs  and  Convictions,  the  source  of,  249. 

Moral  Teaching,  its  nature,  318. 

Mosaic  Institutes,  128  ;  their  interpretation,  129  ; 


Christ's  relations  toward  them,  133  ;  he  never 
disregarded  them,  218;  their  humanity  to- 
ward the  poor,  282. 

Mother  and  Brethren,  his  disciples  are  sucli  to  him, 
296. 

Murder,  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  252. 

Mijths,  the  theory  of,  refuted,  320 

Nativity,  ditferences  as  to  its  date,  23. 

Nature  of  Jesus,  philosophical  views  of  the 
Church,  34 ;  humanitarian  and  rationalistic 
s<  liool  and  its  tendency,  34  ;  compromise  views 
are  unsatisfactory,  35  ;  church  doctrine  of  a 
double  nature,  36 ;  its  services  to  Christianity, 
36  ;  more  philosophical  and  simpler  views,  37  ; 
theological  discussions  are  mediieval  or  mod- 
ern, 37  ;  instances  of  this,  37  ;  ground  tak- 
en by  the  author,  38  ;  the  grand  results  of  the 
incarnation,  40. 

Nazareth,  its  had  reputation,  46  ;  scenery,  46 ; 
scene  of  attempt  to  kill  Jesus,  195;  W.  H. 
Dixon's  view  of  Nazareth,  196;  fierceness 
and  unbelief  of  the  townsmen,  197. 

Na:arene,  a  term  of  reproach,  —  Matthew's 
statement  of  its  reference  to  Jesus,  60. 

New  Life,  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  Christ's 
view  of  its  ethics,  251. 

NicoDEMUs,  came  to  Jesus  "by  night,"  162; 
mistaken  view  of  his  courage,  162;  how 
proved  later,  IC3;  spiritual  re-birth  explained 
to  him,  163. 

Oaths,  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  255. 

Oriaital  Instruction  and  its  character,  160. 

Overture  of  Anijils,  the,  8. 

Palestine,  populations  and  influence  of  wars 
therein,  120;  political  condition,  130. 

Pantheism  is  atheism,  —  the  miracles,  6. 

Parables,  a  favorite  device  with  Jewish  teachers, 
223  ;  their  use  by  Jesus,  223  ;  the  two  delnors, 
279  ;  the  unclean  spirit,  293 ;  the  eight  spoken 
in  succession,  301  ;  their  character  and  pur- 
pose, 301 ;  the  advantage  and  use  of  parables, 
301  ;  the  parable  of  the  sower,  R03.  316;  tlie 
parable  of  the  rich  man,  306 ,  the  servants 
found  waiting  for  their  lord,  306 ;  Peter's 
questions  as  to  whom  the  parables  referred, 
307  ;  parable  of  the  unfaithful  servant,  307  ; 
the  rigorous  creditor,  309 ;  parable  of  the  fig- 
tree,  309  ;  parables  as  used  by  Jesus,  320 ;  the 
grain  of  mustard-seed,  322 ;  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  like  unto  leaven,  322  ;  unto  a  net,  323 ; 
the  good  seed  and  the  tares,  323 ;  the  treasure 
hid  in  a  field,  324 ;  the  pearl  of  great  price, 
324. 

Passovei:     See  Feasts. 

Paul,  why  called  a  tent-maker,  222. 

Peace  on  earth  only  reached  by  conflict,  311. 

Pentecost.     See  Feasts. 


fr- 


-ff 


cB- 


-a 


386 


ANALYTICAL  INDEX. 


Pkrsonal  Appearance  of  Jescs,  the  diffi- 
ciiltv  of  approacliing  the  Jewish  life  in  the 
time  of  Christ,  li)2  ;  the  exalted  idea  of  Jesus 
and  his  Divinity  give  an  ideal  color  to  his 
pci-son  and  appearance,  lo2  ;  the  impressions 
which  he  made  upon  his  disciples  and  country- 
men, 103;  to  thorn  he  was  simply  a  citizen, 
and  so  to  his  discijiles  until  after  the  resur- 
rection, 103;  a  conversation  combined  from 
the  Gospels  on  this  point,  104;  there  is  noth- 
ing' to  determine  the  personal  ajijiearance  of  Je- 
sus, 104  ;  the  (jreat  men  of  Greece  and  Rome 
were  commemorated  in  art,  104  ;  the  disciples 
were  neither  literary  nor  artistic  men,  104; 
the  Jew  was  forbidden  to  make  any  image 
or  likeness  of  Divinity,  105  ;  the  early  Fathers 
dirtcred  as  to  liis  comeliness,  —  they  appealed 
to  the  i)ro])hecies  concerning  the  Messiah, 
105 ;  the  typical  he;id  of  Christ,  107 ;  the 
fictitious  letter  of  Publius  Lentulus,  lOG;  por- 
traits began  to  appear  in  the  fourth  century, 
106;  they  were  by  Greek  artists,  107;  their 
ideal  characteristics,  107;  the  Koman  type,  108; 
the  Italian  mastci-s,  lOS ;  the  Christ  of  Mi- 
chael Angelo,  108,  and  of  Leonanio  da  Vinci, 
109  ;  the  elieet  of  pictures  of  Jesus  upon  re- 
ligion, 109;  the  grander  Hebrew  example, 
109  ;  there  are  glimpses  of  Jcsus's  i>erson:il 
bearing,  109 ;  every  system  of  philosophy  or 
religion  except  Christianity  can  be  received 
without  knowledge  of  its  founder's  person, 
109;  the  genius  of  Christianity  requires  a 
distiuet  conception  of  Christ's  personality, 
110. 

Pliarisees,  their  history  and  religious  tendencies, 
123;  extract  from  Dullinokk  on  ihe  Phari- 
sees, 123;  arraignment  of  Jesus  for  Sabbath- 
breaking,  and  the  motive,  202 ;  their  accusa- 
tions of  Jesus,  288  ;  he  charges  them  with 
blas|ihemy,  290;  rebuked  by  Jesus  at  the 
Pharisee's  house,  298;  their  method  of  seeking 
to  destroy  him,  301  ;  their  popularity,  303  ; 
their  spiritual  blindness,  309.  See  also 
Tem/tle. 

Pilate,  slaughter  of  the  Galileans,  310. 

Political  Tests  of  Jesus  by  the  Scribes,  302. 

Poor,  humanity  of  the  Mosaic  institutes  toward, 
282. 

Prayer,  the  Lord's,  257. 

Priests,  limited  sphere  and  influence  of,  Gfi. 

Prophets,  the  prophetic  nature,  64  ;  prophets 
among  the  Jews,  65  ;  independence  of  cere- 
monial usages,  68 ;  examples  of  particular 
prophets,  69  ;  highest  moods  of  inspiration, 
92;  symbolization  employed  by  the  prophetic 
state,  93  ;  attempted  interpretation  to  mod- 
em equivalents,  94. 


Proverbs,  the  Book  of,  influence  upon  Christ's 
discourses,  53. 

liaising  of  the  Dead,  the  three  instances,  281. 

nationalism.     See  Nature  of  Jesus. 

Renan,  M.,  on  the  character  of  Christ,  7;  on 
his  soverei'inty  of  spirit,  207. 

Repentance,  its  true  meaning  and  spirit,  8S. 

littuliation,  —  Jiennye,  the  Sermon  on  I  he 
Mount,  255. 

HocHETTE,  Kaoui.,  Iccturcs  on  ancient  art, 
95. 

liomans.  Christian  converts  among  the.  .'iTS. 

Sabbath,  Jewi^ll  laws  and  observiyices,  200  ;  the 
conflict  with  the  Sanhedrim,  202  ;  the  pim  k- 
ing  of  cai-s  of  grain,  205  ;  healing  the  para- 
lytic, 207  ,  real  significance  of  the  contro- 
versy, 209  ;  the  Sabbaih  made  for  man,  209. 

Sacrifices,  68. 

Sadducees,  their  doctrines  nnil  relations  toward 
the  people,  1 26. 

St.  Augustine  on  tlie  four  Evangelists,  3. 

Samaria,  its  population,  121  ;  history  and  iiili  b- 
itants,  176;  enmity  with  the  Jews,  176;  cor- 
dial reception  of  truth  and  hospitality,  189. 

Sanhedrim,  questions  John,  the  forerunner  of 
Jesus,  78.     See  also  Sahbath. 

Satan,  medieval  art  represenlations  of  evil 
spirit.s,  95  ;  they  have  corrupted  the  popular 
ideas  to  this  day,  96 ,  the  Devil  pictured  by 
the  monks  is  degrading  to  the  narrative,  96 ; 
a  true  conception  of  the  Evil  One,  96. 

Saviour,  Hebrew  forms  of  the  name,  80. 

Scrilus  and  Pharisees.     Sec  Pharisees 

Sermon  ori  the  Mount,  the  Beatitudes,  Mount 
Hattin  the  scene  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount, 
230;  extract  from  Stanley's  Sinai,  2.30;  the 
various  accounts  of  the  fcrmon,  232  ;  contrast 
between  the  sermon  and  the  giving  of  the  law 
from  Sinai,  233 ;  character  and  purpose  of 
the  sermon,  2.33;  "Blessed  are  the  poor  in 
spirit,"  238  ;  "  Blessed  are  they  that  mourn," 
239  ;  "  Blessed  are  the  meek,"  239  ;  "  Blessed 
are  they  who  hunger  and  thirst  after  right- 
eousness," 241  ;  "  Blessed  are  the  merciful," 
242;  "Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart,"  242; 
"  Blessed  are  the  peacemakers,"  243 ;  "  Blessed 
are  they  who  are  persecuted  for  righteousness' 
sake,"  245  ;  the  sermon  Jesus's  view  of  the 
spiritual  ethics  of  the  new  life,  251  ;  where  it 
contested  the  popular  interpretation  of  ilie 
law,  252;  murder,  252;  adultery,  253;  di- 
vorce, 254  ;  oalbs,  255  ;  retaliation,  255  ;  dis- 
interested bemvolencc,  256  ;  almsgiving,  257  ; 
prayer,  —  the  Lor<l's  Prayer,  257;  fasting, 
263;  the  pursuit  of  wealth,  264;  general  con- 
siderations upon  the  sermon,  265. 

Shechem,  the  vale  of,  and  its  beauties,  1 72 ;  con- 


fr- 


w 


a- 


^ 


ANALYTICAL  LS^DEX. 


387 


nection  with  great  events  of  Jewish  his  orv, 
174. 

Simeon,  the  prophetic  rapture  of,  26. 

Sou  of  David,  is  not  this  tiie,  293. 

Son  of  Man,  significance  of  the  name,  138;  by 
it  Christ  emphasized  his  mission,  138. 

•Son  of  God,  Jesus  assumes  the  title,  203. 

Song,  the,  of  Mary,  17  ;  of  Hannah,  18 ;  of  Zach- 
arias,  20  ;  of  the  pil<;rims  to  Jerusalem,  55. 

Staxlet,  on  the  Mount  of  the  Beatitudes^  230. 

Stir  in  the  East,  the,  27. 

SnSANNA,  one  of  Christ's  attendants,  288. 

Synagorjues,  order  of  serrice  in  the,  192. 

TiiUmiirJes.     See  Feasts. 

Teachixgs  of  Christ,  his  methods  of,  223. 

TeiiijKrance  reformers,  and  the  weddinpr  at  Cana, 
143  ;  wine  and  alcohols  considered,  143,  con- 
clusions from  Christ's  example,  145. 

Temple,  the,  at  Jerusalem,  152;  trafficking  in, 
— ^  extent  and  reason  of  it,  155. 

Tejii-tatioxs  of  Christ  in  the  wilderness, 
the  three  narratives,  by  Matthew,  Mark  and 
Luke,  88  ;  place  of  the  temptations  —  erro- 
neously supposed  to  be  the  mountains  of 
Moab  —  was  one,  called  Quarantania.  of  the 
line  of  mountains  westward  of  Jericho,  88  ; 
accordance  of  these  events  with  the  elder  He- 
brew nature.  89  ;  light  afforded  by  the  visions 
of  Ezekiel,  89  ;  the  forty  days'  fasting  a  pri- 
vate struggle  and  protection,  90;  the  silence 
of  Jesus  upon  the  subject,  90 ;  his  struggles 
with  the  powers  of  the  invisible  world,  and 
his  victory,  90  ;  the  belief  of  his  disciples,  — 
the  le.iching  of  the  apostles  and  the  faith  of 
the  Christian  Church  agree  as  to  their  reality, 
91  ;  the  inspiration  of  comfort  from  his  vic- 
tory over  the  utmost  that  Satan  could  attempt, 
91  ;  the  nature  of  prophetic  inspiration,  92; 
the  mystery  of  his  pure  bring,  95  ;  his  trials 
and  persecutions  and  consciousness  of  power, 
95 ;  the  first  temptation,  "  command  that 
these  stones  be  made  bread,"  97 ;  Satan, 
mediajval  and  modem  representations  of  evil 
spirits,  96 ;  Rochetre's  Icctnres  on  ancient 
art,  95 ;  the  popular  idea  of  Satan  to  this 
day,  96  ;  a  true  conception  of  the  Evil  One, 
96 ;  the  prophetic  symbolism  of  the  first 
temptation,  97  ;  the  second  temptation,  "cast 
thyself  down  from  hence,"  98 ;  its  appeal  to 
the  love  of  praise  and  the  principle  of  admi- 


ration in  the  multitude,  98;  the  third  temp- 
tation, the  mountain-top,  —  its  tremendous 
force,  99  ;  considerations  of  the  theories  of 
the  temptations,  100;  the  objections  to  the 
literal  history,  —  why  the  theory  of  a  sym- 
bolic vision  is  preferable,  100;  the  practical 
benefit  of  this  passage  in  the  life  of  Jesus, 
101. 

Thief,  the,  that  cometh  in  the  night,  307. 

Thompson,  the  missionary,  on  caves  in  Pales- 
tine, 22  ;  on  leprosy,  219. 

Twelve  Tribes.     See  Feasts. 

Unbelief  oT  the  people's  leaders,  Christ's  severity 
towards,  276. 

Van  de  Velde,  on  Palestine  and  the  vale  of 
Shechem,  172. 

ViRGis,  deification  of  the,  by  art,  12. 

Watching  for  the  Lord,  306. 

Water,  its  ceremonial  use,  167. 

Watei-  vessels  among  the  Hebrews,  142. 

Wealth,  the  pursuit  of,  —  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount,  264. 

Wedding,  the,  in  Cana,  —  uncertainty  as  to 
which  Cana,  138,  the  presence  of  Jesus  and 
its  significance,  138  ;  social  and  joyous  habits 
of  the  Jews,  139;  the  scene  described,  139; 
sobriety  of  such  occasions,  139  ;  Christ's  geni- 
ality as  a  guest,  141  ;  the  wine  exhausted, 
141  ;  the  first  miracle,  142;  the  character  of 
the  wine,  143  ;  Congregational  Review  on  Rev. 
W.  M.  Thayer's  "  Communion  Wine,"  &c., 
143;  wine  and  alcohol  considered,  143;  the 
conclusions  to  be  drawn  from  Christ's  ex- 
ample, 145. 

Weddings  among  the  Jews,  139. 

Wine.     See  Wedding  in  Cana. 

If'oHian,  Christ's  humanitj-  toward  the  sinning, 
186. 

WooLSET,  President,  on  the  mother  and  breth- 
ren of  Jesns,  296. 
Zacharias,  the  priest,  and  his  wife  Elizabeth, 
9 ;  his  life  and  duties,  9  ;  the  angel  of  the 
Lord  appears  to  him,  9;  the  promise  of  a 
son,  10 ;  Zacharias  doubts  and  is  stricken 
dumb,  10;  their  hopes  of  a  Messiah,  11  ;  re- 
turn to  the  "  hill  country,"  1 1  ;  arrival  of 
Mary,  16;  the  birth  and  naming  of  John, 
19;  his  lips  were  unsealed,  —  his  song  of 
thanksgiTin<r,  20 ;  his  prophecy  of  John's 
greatness,  20. 


END   OF   PABT   I. 


Cambridge :  EIectTot>'ped  and  Printed  by  Welch,  BigeJow,  &  Co. 


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